


Lighthouse

by justanotherbookworm78



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Healing, Hope, Nightmares, Not Canon Compliant, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:48:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 110,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27572587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanotherbookworm78/pseuds/justanotherbookworm78
Summary: After surviving her final showdown with William Lewis, Olivia Benson needs time to heal. Her former Captain gives her the chance to do just that. Far from the city, she is now searching for any port in the storm - a lighthouse to guide her. Little does she know, one will soon find her. (Story Rated M for dark themes, TW added for discussion of post trauma events)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	1. Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> TW is added to this story for discussion of thematic material related to traumatic events, and is rated M for its dark nature. Also, while not exactly a songfic, this story was inspired by a song, and will come into play as the chapters progress. To listen to what motivated me, look for "Lighthouse" by Collabro.

**Disclaimer: SVU and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. I own nothing. Quotes that are in italics and are underlined are taken directly from the show, and not my own dialogue.**

* * *

William Lewis was dead. After having been at his mercy twice now, and made to endure hours of untold trauma and torture, not to mention a game of Russian Roulette, the man could never harm her – or anyone else – again. Still, Olivia Benson was unsure if she would ever fully recover from her ordeals. Currently, all she knew was that she was being driven away from her most recent nightmare in the back of a squad car, Lewis' blood still staining her face. She knew she was deep in shock, and a part of her longed for escape in any way possible – anything that she could use as a means to live in her bubble of denial for just a little while longer.

A short time later at the hospital, while she was being examined, Olivia remained mostly on auto pilot, mechanically answering questions, and robotically obeying the instructions she was given. Looking down at her body, she was loosely aware that her clothes had been exchanged for a gown, and flinched as a flash bulb illuminated in her face.

"I'm sorry, Sergeant. I thought I had given you enough warning."

A gentle voice murmured an apology, and she looked toward the source of the sound. Barely recognizing one of the emergency room nurses, Olivia continued to stare blankly. In her present state she was incapable of feeling any emotion. Her muddled mind couldn't put all the pieces together, so she wasn't quite sure if she'd call what she was feeling in regard toward herself apathy – but all she knew was that the last time things had felt this surreal, she was being led out of a beach house wrapped in a blanket after having beaten William Lewis within an inch of his life.

There was a hand grasping her wrist gently now, and somewhere through the haze, Olivia made the connection that they were checking her fingers for gunpowder residue and other evidence. She hoped that no one expected her to make a statement anytime soon, because she honestly didn't think she was capable.

Gradually, she was becoming more aware of things around her – the sounds, the smells. How long she had been in this examination room, though, she didn't know. What she did know was that a pervasive chill had taken hold of her body, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't stop shivering. Even her teeth were starting to chatter.

"It's all right, Sergeant. We're almost done here. Then I can let you get cleaned up."

The same kind voice that had spoken to her earlier was back, and Olivia felt as a blanket was draped around her shoulders. She accepted the small comfort for what it was, grateful for the distraction. She'd take any reprieve that would spare her from going back in time and reliving those last heart stopping moments in the granary.

"Sergeant?...Sergeant?"

Someone was calling to her again, but Olivia couldn't seem to get her motor functions to respond properly. She knew she was expected to give an answer, she just wasn't sure how. Managing to focus on the woman in scrubs standing in front of her, she blinked rapidly several times in succession. She also tried taking several deep breaths, in an attempt to center herself. This method however, had the opposite of its intended effect, as she inadvertently overstimulated her lungs and began to hyperventilate. Clawing wildly at her throat as she gasped for air, Olivia felt several sets of hands ease her down into a supine position. She began to panic further as something covered her nose and mouth, and all she could think was that Lewis was back – that he wasn't dead after all and she was in his clutches once more.

Flailing now, Olivia began to strike out blindly. There was no one else in danger now – no one relying on her for their survival – so she could fight back as much as she liked. And fight she would. She was determined that even if this was the last thing she ever did, she was going to take William Lewis down with her.

More than one pair of hands were still holding her down – since when did Lewis rely on accomplices? Olivia struggled again to sit up but she was virtually immobile. She heard voices calling out instructions to one another, and she picked one out of the din. That was the same person who had spoken to her not long ago, told her everything would be all right. This was someone who had been offering her comfort, not prolonging her pain. Reality began to sink back in – she was in a hospital, she was safe.

Though she was no longer actively fighting the oxygen mask on her face, Olivia was still extremely agitated. She tried to sit up again, this time to tell the people in the room that she was fine, but she just needed some space, when she felt a sharp prick in her upper arm. It was followed by a warm sensation spreading quickly throughout her body from her head to her toes. The bastards had sedated her. Olivia tried to fight against the mire that was pulling her into the undertow, but it was no use. Within seconds, she was out.

* * *

When she came to some time later, the first thing Olivia was aware of was that someone had wiped her face clean of the dried blood that had stained it. In its place were a multitude of tear tracks. She lifted her hand to wipe them away, but was stopped short. Glancing to her side, she was alarmed to realize that her arms were fastened to the rails of the bed she was lying in with soft cloth restraints. Trying to quell the panic that was rising within, she looked around for anything that could help ground her – something she could recognize.

Sitting to her left, reading quietly from a book perched in his lap, was Dr. Lindstrom. Seeing her trusted psychiatrist, Olivia exhaled a sigh of relief. She didn't know who had called him or when, but his presence here was proof enough for now that she had escaped her living nightmare once more. It didn't answer all of her questions, but there would be time to get them answered. She was alive.

"Dr. Lindstrom"

Her throat was dry from whatever they'd given her, and her voice was nothing like she knew herself to sound like. Olivia watched as the man next to her responded, and lifted his head. As always, his eyes were kind. She saw empathy reflected there, but no pity. Gesturing toward her wrists helplessly, she asked without words why a hospital would go so far as to restrain a victim of a recent assault. Even though it was something she'd witnessed before, Olivia still couldn't believe it was happening – to her no less.

"I'm sorry, Olivia. When I arrived, I tried to use my authority as your psychiatrist to get you released from your restraints, but I was overruled."

"What did they give me?"

Peter Lindstrom shook his head regretfully. He'd read her chart, though he'd had to fight tooth and nail to gain access to it. Apparently they had believed she was behaving erratically and lashing out, and decided to sedate her for her own well being. It hadn't occurred to any of the idiots treating her that the woman was having a flashback related to her trauma.

"Haloperidol."

Olivia shivered involuntarily. That may not have been William Lewis's drug of choice, but combined with the alcohol he had forced down her throat those four days she was with him that first time, the brain numbing haze she had been in then was pretty similar to how she felt right at this very moment.

"I want to go home. When can I go home?"

"Olivia..."

The tone of his voice, combined with the look on his face told her immediately that she was not going to like what he had to say. She didn't need to be completely lucid in order to understand that. As the various scenarios stemming from her current situation began to swim in her mind, she eventually landed on the inevitable.

"You're got to be fucking kidding me. They're admitting me? Can't you do something about this?"

"I'm sorry, Olivia. In this instance, I actually agree with them – not about you being a danger to yourself – but in your needing more extensive care. You've just been traumatized, again. I haven't heard your side of things yet, but I know that it had to have been horrifying for you."

She had been trying to sit up further, struggling against the restraints, but now Olivia collapsed back against the pillows, defeated. How was it that even dead, William Lewis still found a way to ruin her life? What else could go wrong?

As the drug continued to work its way out of her system, it became more apparent to her that she had, in fact, been moved. Gone was the examination room she was in before. In its place was a more traditional hospital room. Now she was confused again – for a whole new set of reasons. Due to her experience on the job, Olivia knew the rooms on the psychiatric ward didn't look like this. Just exactly what was going on?

Apparently, Dr. Lindstrom had sensed her confusion, because he hurried to explain. He stated that given the traumas she had endured, the hospital wanted to monitor her on a medical floor for at least forty eight hours before transferring her to psychiatric care. However, during this time, he would be allowed to come in and visit her daily to have sessions with her. Also, they were going to give her the opportunity to agree to have her stay in psych be made voluntary. If she didn't, she'd likely still be admitted for her own safety.

"How long would I have to stay?"

Olivia's voice was soft as she tried to wrap her head around the inevitability of a hospital stay. Still, better to make the decision herself than to be forced against her will. That had happened to her too often lately. From now on, she wanted to make her own choices whenever possible.

"That I don't know. What I can promise is that I will work with your doctor here, so that your transition back to my care is as seamless as possible."

Trying her best not to sound pathetic, because she always avoided sounding weak at all costs, Olivia made a request that she hoped wasn't impossible.

"Can you at least see if you can get me out of these? I'm trying really hard not to panic again here, but they are very triggering. Especially since Lewis had me tied up again today."

"Of course, Olivia. I'll do everything I can. Now that you're awake and much calmer, they may be more willing. I'll be right back."

With that, Dr. Lindstrom stood and left the room, leaving her in the last place she wanted to be – alone with her thoughts.

* * *

It was taking Dr. Lindstrom a lot longer than she'd thought to find someone about freeing her from the restraints. Olivia was trying her best not to panic, but her mind was quickly spiraling to dark places yet again. Remembering some of the skills she'd learned in therapy already, she tried to center her breathing, and chose a spot on wall across the room to focus on. Concentrating on the blotch that was marring the paint, she was able to successfully distract herself from falling down the rabbit hole.

As much as she hated to admit it, maybe they were right. Maybe she did need to be admitted for a few days. Sure, she could tell everyone that she was 'fine', but it would be a lie. The truth of the matter was, her hand still trembled with the memory of the weight of the gun in her palm, and her temple still burned from the lingering sensation of the revolver she had pressed against her head.

"Olivia?"

She heard someone calling her name, bringing her back to the present. Dr. Lindstrom was back, and with him this time was an older woman. Though she was skeptical at first, and still hypervigilant, Olivia knew he'd never bring anyone near her who would cause her harm, so she tried her best to relax. As the woman reached for her wrist, she flinched involuntarily, then murmured an apology.

"It's all right, Sergeant. I understand you've had quite the ordeal today. In fact, I'm the one who wants to apologize to you."

As she spoke, the gray haired woman began to unfasten the soft restraints that currently bound Olivia's wrists to the bed rail. Once her patient was free, she even gently massaged the skin, in an attempt to soothe her further. While she worked, she offered up an explanation.

"I'm Sylvia Reynolds, chief of psychiatry here at the hospital. The individual who treated you in our emergency room is an intern, and I am sorry that you were not shown the compassion you deserve. You should never have been forcibly restrained or sedated, and for that, I apologize."

Olivia could only nod her acceptance. Somehow, she had a feeling, that despite the apologies, nothing was going to change her situation. She was still going to be expected to stay here several days – not just for observation, but to sign herself in for psychiatric care as well. Still, she was beginning to consider the benefits of such a scenario. Anything had to be better than going home to her apartment alone. There, she'd likely drown her sorrows in a bottle of wine or two and fight sleep until the night terrors came to claim her. Speaking of having something to drink – the thought reminded her of something. Her mouth was still terribly dry.

"May I have some water, please?"

Again, Dr. Reynolds' voice was kind. She asked permission before taking a seat in the chair Dr. Lindstrom had vacated earlier, and Olivia watched as the woman exchanged a glance with her psychiatrist. When Dr. Lindstrom left the room again, Olivia knew it was he who would bring her a drink, and that this new doctor wanted a moment to speak with her privately.

"I'm sure by now your doctor has explained to you what is going on."

Olivia nodded. She was still feeling some of the effects of the haloperidol she'd been given earlier, but not so much that she was unable to participate in a conversation.

"He has. I will admit, after everything I've been through, this is the last place I want to be, but I'm willing to cooperate."

"That's good to hear Olivia. For now, we plan to continue observing you here on the medical floor for a couple of days. However, myself and a few members of my team will be by to evaluate you. That will help us to determine whether or not you actually need the inpatient psychiatric treatment."

Olivia nodded. Things weren't sounding as dire as Doctor Lindstrom originally painted them. At the very least, an extended hospital stay wasn't set in stone just yet. When she realized she was being spoken to again, she focused her attention on the older woman once more.

"If you're feeling up to it, there are some police officers here to see you. I tried to dissuade them so you could rest, but I believe they are members of your squad. They've assured me they have no intention to question you until you are ready, they merely want to see for themselves that you are all right."

For the first time since arriving at the hospital, Olivia was able to form some semblance of a smile. Her squad – her family, was here. There was no shame to be had, they had already seen her at worst. While there would certainly be some admonitions for what she had done, she welcomed their concern. Right now, she needed to surround herself with people who were familiar.

"You can let them in."

Before anyone came in to visit, Dr. Lindstrom returned to the room first, bringing for her a small pitcher of ice water along with a cup with which to drink from. Pouring her some, he passed it to her, letting her have her fill. Then, he promised her he would be back to check on her later before he left the hospital, so they could work out a time for him to see her the following day.

"I'll be in to see you again later, too, Olivia. While you are staying here, Dr. Lindstrom and I will be working together to maintain your care. If you should feel overwhelmed at any time, or have any questions, please tell your nurse, and they can page me."

"I will. Thank you Dr. Reynolds, Dr. Lindstrom."

In truth, Olivia was feeling overwhelmed now, but she wouldn't admit to it. She just wanted to see some friendly faces. Not only did she want the comfort of the familiar, but she figured they would need the reassurance that she was all right. In her attempt to save Amelia, she'd likely given them all a scare, and she knew she owed them an apology for it – even if faced with a similar situation, she'd make the same choice again in a heartbeat in order to save an innocent child.

Setting her cup down on the tray table next to her bed, Olivia relaxed against the pillows momentarily while she waited for her visitors to arrive. Fatigue was creeping up on her again, whether it was from the loss of adrenaline from earlier, or the lingering effects from the haloperidol she'd been given, she wasn't sure. Pushing that feeling to the side, she forced a smile as she heard footsteps nearing her door. It was time to face her friends.

* * *

Fin was the first to enter her room, and the man who had been her steadfast friend for years didn't hesitate to walk the few steps toward her and envelop her into a gentle hug. Leaning in, he whispered something fiercely, meant for her ears alone.

"I got your back, Liv. No matter what."

When they separated, despite all her promises to herself, Olivia was fighting back tears already, and she'd only seen one of her colleagues so far. What was it going to be like when she saw the rest? The next few moments passed in an emotional whirlwind as she was hugged by Amanda, then finally Nick. The guilt on her partner's face was a familiar expression, one she tried not to focus on for too long, lest it be triggering and take her to places she'd rather not revisit. Still, Olivia felt a need to address the elephant in the room, as it were.

"Please, I don't want any of you blaming yourselves. I knew what I was doing when I slipped my detail. I'm sorry I put you through that, but I don't have any regrets. Had I not, he would have killed Amelia."

A new voice in the room broke in suddenly, and it was harsher than she was expecting, but still filled with concern.

"Olivia, stop talking. Also, I advise you not to say anything else without a lawyer and your PBA representative."

Looking toward the door, everyone saw Rafael Barba standing there. He was impeccably dressed as always, but the expression on his face was haggard. It was obvious he'd just heard the news about Olivia's most recent ordeal, and the detectives in the room felt somewhat guilty for having left the attorney out of the loop earlier. They knew he cared for Olivia a great deal, too, but time had been of the essence.

Now, more than ever, Olivia was confused as hell. Fin's initial statement came back to her now, with a new meaning. Now it was Barba's advice ringing in her ears. Just what was going on? Looking to her friends for an explanation, she waited. However, it was soon apparent that none would be forthcoming. That was when the harshness of reality began to sink in. They all thought that _she_ had killed Lewis.

Newfound waves of nausea began to wash over her. Maybe staying in the hospital for a few days would be a good thing after all. Then she could avoid the nightmare her life had become for a little while longer. How could it be that even dead, William Lewis still found ways to torture her? Now, it wasn't just her life that would be on the line, but her reputation and career as well. What if no one believed her?

Suddenly, Olivia didn't feel as safe in the presence of her fellow squad members as she once did. She felt like she was under the microscope. Once again, like when she had been in that courtroom, it felt like her integrity was being called into question. She knew that after the confession she had made on air, the public's perception against her would already be skewed. Why hadn't Lewis just killed her when he had the chance? That last bullet had been meant for her. He could have easily forced her to die by her own hand, or even pulled the trigger on her himself.

Instead, it seems he had opted for a different form of torture altogether. One in which he would continue to haunt her for the rest of her days. Would she ever be free of him? The pervasive sense of cold was suddenly back, and Olivia felt her body quaking with a combination of fear and shivers. Somewhere in her peripheral vision, she was vaguely aware of Fin sending everyone else out of the room.

Moments later, he was by her side again, laying a spare blanket over her. He kept one arm around her, the gesture reassuring without being too smothering, and ready to pull back the second he sensed any panic on her part. It reminded Olivia of the way he had soothed her years before, after they had arrested Lowell Harris at Sealview. Fin had offered her comfort and his solemn promise that he would tell no one about what had happened in the basement of that prison without her consent.

"It's going to be okay, Liv. You'll want to listen to Barba. But between you and me? One thing I can promise you – I know you didn't do this."

Olivia raised tear laden eyes toward her friend. He believed her? She leaned her head against his shoulder, accepting his comfort. Fin wasn't typically a demonstrative man, but he had always had a soft spot for her, and she knew he considered her to be like a sister. The feeling was mutual – her relationship with him was closer than that with her own flesh and blood brother, Simon.

"I don't want you to worry, let met take care of everything. I'll call Langan – he's an ass, but he helped you out once before."

She could only nod – the mention of the defense attorney's name calling to mind a memory she'd rather forget. Back to another time she had been falsely accused of murder. Then, her partner at the time – not to mention best friend – Elliot Stabler had been her fiercest advocate. Not only had he mortgaged his house to bail her out of jail, but he'd gone above and beyond to prove her innocence. If he were here now – he'd be beside himself with worry and guilt.

Olivia shook her head ruefully, letting the thoughts wash over her. That was a pretty big "if". She hadn't spoken to Elliot in years. He'd left the job behind, seemingly leaving her behind in the process. While she could understand his walking away from the badge – the traumatic event that prompted it would shake anyone to the core – she never quite had understood how he could leave _her_. Still, even after all this time, she missed him desperately. More so now than ever before.

The first time William Lewis had taken her captive, she had taunted the man, threatening to call her 'old partner'. How she wishes now she had done just that. The nightmare would have ended then and there. Then again, the situation likely would have resulted with Elliot being the one behind bars. Olivia knew without question, no matter how much time they'd spent apart, he'd have done anything to protect her – even if it meant killing a man with his bare hands.

It didn't mean she wasn't still angry with him from time to time, or didn't hold a tinge of bitterness in her heart. Part of what hurt the most with all this trauma she had been made to endure was it cost her one of the last remaining links to her former partner. Yes, she still had the "Semper Fi" medallion hidden away in a jewelry box, but that hurt too much to look at. What she mourned now was the loss of her talisman – the mini badge that Elliot had sent her that had been an exact replica of the one he had worn so proudly all those years by her side. She'd kept it fastened to the base of her gun, a solid reminder that she still carried him with her. Now, that was forever lost, buried in an evidence box never to see the light of day again.

"Olivia? Olivia?"

She was pulled back to the present by the sound of her name being called. Fin was still in the room with her, more concerned than ever. Olivia supposed it was lucky for her sake that she answered him before he went to get a nurse. The last thing she needed right now was to be sedated again. She was, however, longing to get some sleep, though she doubted it would be peaceful.

Recognizing her fatigue, Fin made his excuses to go, but not without reaffirming his promises to her. Embracing her once more, he even went a step above and beyond and a placed a kiss on the crown of her head. Olivia closed her eyes at the comforting sensation, letting it ground her and remind her that she was actually safe from all the events that had transpired earlier today.

"Thank you, Fin."

"I'll see you tomorrow, Liv."

* * *

Olivia woke the next morning after a fitful night of sleep. The nurses had offered to give her a sedative, saying that Dr. Reynolds had ordered one for her upon request, but she had refused. Truth be told, after her ordeal with Lewis, she had trouble taking anything stronger than an an aspirin. While they were understanding of that, they were more concerned with her refusal to eat dinner the night before. That was where Olivia found herself getting a bit frustrated. She wasn't purposely trying to be difficult, she simply had no appetite. The sheer thought of food made her ill. She had however, promised that she would try again with breakfast.

Now it was time for her to see if she could live up to her promise. She could hear the food cart rumbling in the hallway, and knew an orderly would be bringing in her tray at any moment. Sure enough, a figure filled her doorway seconds later, and Olivia tried her best not to flinch at the new presence. They young man placed her food on the tray table, and gave her a pleasant greeting before retreating.

Warily, Olivia viewed what had been put in front of her. From what she could see, there was milk accompanying a single serving box of cornflakes, along with some yogurt. There was also a cup of coffee. Hiding underneath the plate cover was a lone hard boiled egg and two pieces of toast. On the side of the tray was everything she'd need to accompany the meal – cream and sugar for the coffee, salt and pepper, plus butter for the toast.

Knowing she wouldn't be able to accomplish much, she decided she would at least try to manage the toast. It wasn't exactly a complete meal, but it would be better than nothing. Her stomach was still upset, so she knew better than to eat a lot. On any other given day, the coffee would be appealing, but today the smell of it just made her feel queasy.

Before she could get started with buttering her toast, however, a nurse had come into the room. Olivia accepted this interruption, actually somewhat relieved for the brief reprieve from having to force herself to eat.

"Good morning, Sergeant. Were you able to get any sleep last night?"

Grateful that this woman at least hadn't opened with the dreaded question of 'How are you feeling?', Olivia found herself answering as honestly as possible.

"Some. I did wake up a lot, though – it seemed as though every little sound startled me."

To Olivia's relief, the woman did not suggest she try a sedative come bedtime tonight. Instead, she simply said she would leave a note in her chart requesting that her door be closed to limit the amount of background noise that could filter in. Grateful, Olivia nodded her thanks. It was this kindness that gave her the courage to speak up when asked if she needed anything else after having her vitals taken.

"Actually, yes. If its not too much trouble, would it be possible to get a cup of hot tea? They only sent coffee up on my tray this morning, and I don't think my stomach can handle it."

"Of course. We always keep some in the kitchen on the floor. I'll bring you in a cup of hot water and a tea bag as soon as possible."

While she waited for her tea, Olivia began to nibble on the toast, taking small, hesitant bites. When it seemed like it wasn't going to have an adverse effect on her stomach, she gradually ate more. She'd made it halfway through a piece of toast when the nurse had returned, bringing the tea with her.

Gradually, Olivia found that the combination of tea and toast actually helped to settle her unruly stomach somewhat, and even though she knew she'd face additional internal battles at future mealtimes the rest of the day, she was quite proud of herself for what she'd accomplished.

Later that morning, Trevor Langan, a PBA representative, and Lieutenant Tucker entered her room. Olivia sat up a little straighter in her bed, running a hand through her hair self consciously. She wished this questioning could take place without her being clad in a hospital gown, but the cop in her understood that time was of the essence.

After Tucker explained why he was there – a fact that annoyed Olivia to no end, because why else would he be there, other than to question her about the events of the day before? Langan asked for a few moments alone with her. To everyone's surprise, Tucker acquiesced, and gave them some privacy. Even the PBA rep excused herself momentarily, understanding that whatever would be said remained under the veil of attorney-client privilege.

When they were alone, Trevor took a seat in the chair closest to her bed. He typically didn't handle these kind of cases any longer, but had made an exception considering the circumstances.

"Olivia, I'm sorry we have to meet again like this. I won't waste any time explaining all the details to you, you already know the drill. Anything you tell me is privileged, but you also know, I have to ask you, did you kill William Lewis?"

At hearing another person mention the name of the man who had brought so much horror into her life, yet again so recently as the day before, Olivia's hands began to shake involuntarily. Despite all her efforts to control her emotions, her eyes welled up with tears as memories of what had happened in that granary flooded her mind again. Still, her voice was determined and firm as she answered the attorney's question with a resolute and unwavering 'no'.

"Olivia..."

Trevor's voice held a hint of doubt mixed with warning as he spoke, and she cut him off, holding up a hand as she prevented him from saying another word. Then she explained what she what she could for the time being, the words rushing out in one long continuous stream, practically a monologue.

"The short version? He forced me to play Russian Roulette. Every time it was my turn, he would alternatively aim a gun either at me or Amelia, essentially forcing me to pull the trigger on myself. After we'd each taken two turns, he took his third, and there was only one chamber left – meant for me."

Olivia paused only long enough to lick her lips and take a sip of water, then continued.

"What I hadn't mentioned is the entire time this was going on, he'd been taunting my squad over the radio he'd taken from me. They'd arrived at the granary by then, but we were so high up, it was taking them a long time to get to us. Anyway, there was one chamber left, and it was my turn. I thought for sure I was going to die."

Trevor could see how much Olivia was struggling now, and knew instinctively that the woman in front of him had not pulled the trigger. What he was witnessing was a pure trauma reaction – Olivia Benson had had to watch William Lewis shoot himself in the head.

"He didn't give me back the revolver after that. Instead, he lay the other gun down and stalked toward me. He switched hands, and held the revolver out at an angle, between both of our heads."

By now, Olivia had stopped talking to Trevor, and was now staring at the far wall. Her voice had dropped to a whisper as she repeated the last words William Lewis spoke to her, words that would forever be etched in her mind.

" _Game over. Say goodbye, Olivia. This is the last thing you're gonna think about before you die. The last thing you're gonna see_."

Somewhere in the far corner of her subconscious, the gunshot echoed again just as someone dropped something in the hall. The loud clattering noise echoed in the room, causing Olivia to jump involuntarily. Her breathing began to quicken, and the shaking increased. The room was closing in on her, and there was no escape.

* * *

The chain reaction of recalling the events of the day before followed by the startling noise triggered a panic attack, causing Olivia to become virtually unresponsive. Acting quickly, Trevor stepped out in the hall to shout for a nurse, not wanting to waste any time in pressing the call button by Olivia's bedside. She needed help _now_ , and sometimes those call buttons were not always made an emergent priority, depending on what else a nurse was doing at the time.

His shouting attracted the attention of Tucker and the PBA rep, who were waiting further down the hall, but Trevor waved them off. Protecting his clients privacy and dignity was more important right now. Within seconds, not just one, but two nurses were headed toward the room.

Though he was still greatly concerned for Olivia, Trevor stepped back and let the nurses do their job. His mind was still spinning with what she'd just revealed to him. There was no doubt that she'd been telling the truth. Now he just had to protect her and keep her from facing unjust charges. For the time being though, he just wanted Olivia to be all right. Focusing on the woman in front of him once more, Trevor watched as the nurses administered their care.

"That's it Sergeant, deep even breaths."

For the time being, to help get her breathing under control, the nurses had slipped an oxygen mask over Olivia's nose and mouth. They monitored her carefully though, lest the additional coverage would make her feel more claustrophobic than she already did. After a time, Olivia's breathing began to even out, and the shaking began to abate.

"Can you tell me what happened, Sergeant?"

"It's nothing. I'm sorry for all the trouble. I'm fine now."

Olivia tried to deflect away all the attention she was getting, intent on finishing her statements – first to Trevor, then with IAB. As soon as she was done, then maybe everyone would just leave her alone. Even though the last thing she wanted right now was to be by herself with her own thoughts, she wanted even less to be around other people, having them stare at her like she was going to break down at any given moment.

The nurses looked at her like they had their doubts about the veracity of her statement, but didn't push her or question her any further. Instead, after taking a few moments to take her vitals, they retreated, leaving Olivia and Trevor alone in the room once more. Trevor took his place in the chair next to the bed again, now a bit unsure if it was wise to continue his line of questioning.

"Olivia, are you sure you want to continue? Because if not, I can figure out something to say to Tucker, buy you at least another day or two."

Resigned to her fate, Olivia just sighed and shook her head.

"Let's just get this over with."

After making sure he'd gotten all the details necessary from his client, Trevor went back out into the hall and and waved in Lieutenant Tucker and the PBA representative. The two entered Olivia's hospital room and found seats. Tucker produced a small digital recorder, and asked if Olivia was ready to proceed with her statement.

For the next hour, Olivia spoke about the specifics in regard to what had happened the day before, from the time she had slipped her detail until the moment the SVU squad burst in at the very end to find her still bound to the table and William Lewis dead. Once Tucker had heard the story from beginning to end, he began his questioning.

"But that's not how it happened, is it Sergeant? Clearly, the situation boiled down to a matter of you or him, and you took it upon yourself to shoot Lewis in the head – even though your knew your squad was coming to your rescue."

Before Olivia could answer, Langan stepped in, holding up a hand.

"Don't answer that. It was my understanding, Lieutenant, that this was not to be an interrogation. All that was supposed to happen here today was that my client was to give her statement on the events that had happened. She has done just that. Unless you have just cause to arrest her – which you don't, we're done here."

Scowling, Tucker had to admit that the lawyer was right. All he had so far to go on were his suspicions. None of the evidence from the scene had even come back yet. Standing, he turned to go, but not without a final statement.

"I think it goes without saying, Benson, that you aren't to leave town until the investigation is completed."

Incredulous, Langan spoke up on his clients behalf once more. He remembered now how years ago, this same man had been desperate to prove Olivia's guilt in yet another crime she had been innocent of.

"Sergeant Benson is currently in a hospital, receiving ongoing medical care. Though the details of her treatment are her own private business, I can safely say that given what she's been through, leaving town right now is the last thing on her mind."

"Just see that it stays that way, Counselor, or it will be your neck on the line as well."

Taking his recorder with him, Tucker left the room without so much as even wishing Olivia well in her recovery. Only the PBA representative lingered behind, offering Olivia her card. She told the woman in the bed to not hesitate to call if she needed any further assistance, and extended her sympathies for the ordeal she had experienced. Then, she, too, exited the hospital room, leaving Trevor and Olivia alone once more.

Though he knew his business with her was done for the day, Trevor hated to leave Olivia by herself. All he could think about was the way she had reacted when that panic attack had hit her earlier. Even though she was the most formidable woman he knew – looking at her here and now – she seemed so small and vulnerable, like the hospital bed could swallow her up whole.

"What time does your doctor come to see you, Olivia?"

"He said he'd be by after lunch."

Looking at his watch, Trevor noted that the lunch trays would be brought around any time now. That cemented his decision. Setting his briefcase back on the floor, he pulled out his phone. Dialing his office, he spoke to his secretary, and requested that the his next two meetings be rescheduled. As he hung up, he braced himself for the inevitable. Olivia's expression was already incredulous.

"Langan, what the hell are you doing?"

"Keeping you company. I know we've never had just cause to be friends, and that's not what this is. This is me, showing you my compassionate side. I can see that you're going through hell right now, and I don't want you to have to sit here alone. Please, just agree to let me stay?"

With her limited reserves already depleted after having made her statement, Olivia simply nodded. In truth, it felt good to have someone stay in the room with her – even if that someone was Trevor Langan. She was dreading Dr. Lindstrom's visit today, not because she was afraid of her psychiatrist, but because she'd have to rehash yet again the events of the day before and this morning. How many times would she be made to relive it? Wasn't it enough that every time she closed her eyes all she saw was William Lewis' face taunting her?

Relieved that she wasn't pressured to talk any further, the two just sat together in silence. Trevor opened his briefcase in search of something to read, and Olivia found solace in the sound of the crinkling of pages as he turned them. Eventually, she even closed her eyes and fell into a light sleep.

* * *

True to his word, Dr. Lindstrom arrived after lunch. That was when Trevor finally made his excuses to leave, and Olivia thanked him for staying with her as long as he had. The attorney had simply smiled and nodded, and told her to call if she needed anything.

Before Olivia and Dr. Lindstrom could even begin their conversation though, Fin flew into the room. Olivia was surprised, as she hadn't expected to see anyone else today, but welcomed any distraction that would save her from having to talk about Lewis yet again.

"Liv! Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt, but I simply had to see you. I've got great news!"

"What is it, Fin?"

Fin came around the bed, and swept Olivia up into his arms. Just as he had the day before, he pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. Only when he released her did he continue with his explanation. By that point, Olivia was nearly beside herself with curiosity.

"The ME put a rush on Lewis' autopsy, and the findings were confirmed – his death was ruled a suicide. They found evidence of gunpowder residue on both of his hands."

Caught between a mixture of relief and doubt, Olivia exhaled her emotions on something that was between a gasp and a sob. Was it possible? Could she have been vindicated already? As quickly as they had risen though, her hopes faded. There was still the matter of the on air confession she had made in regard to having perjured herself in court. Turning her attention back to Fin, Olivia tried to listen to what else he was saying.

"Now, you don't have to talk to Tucker, Liv. There's need for him to question you."

Giving her friend a grim smile, all Olivia could do now was shrug her shoulders helplessly.

"Tucker was already here, Fin. Got here first thing this morning, right after breakfast."

"That rat bastard. Couldn't even give you a day, could he? I swear he's like a shark, starts circling as soon as he smells blood in the water."

Despite all the inner turmoil she was feeling, the analogy still brought a genuine smile to Olivia's lips.

"At least tell me you had Langan here with you."

"I did. He even stayed for awhile after Tucker had left, didn't feel comfortable leaving me alone."

Fin nodded, then checked his watch for what must have been the umpteenth time since his arrival only minutes earlier. Olivia wondered just what was going on, and called him on it.

"There's something you have to see, Liv."

Turning on the television in her room, he tuned it to a local channel. There, in the middle of the squad room, wearing his dress blues, was Lieutenant Declan Murphy addressing the media. Olivia watched as the man who she had thought would be a thorn in her side made a formal statement, announcing that it had been he who had instructed her to speak to the press the other day, in the hopes that it would bring Lewis out of hiding. That the entire press conference she had given had been an elaborate ruse.

That was it then – her final concern over this. There was nothing they could use to hold against her now. All that remained was to try and recover from the additional horrors that had been inflicted upon her person. But how would she even begin to do that? Moreover, would she still have a job waiting for her once she had? Olivia didn't even know who she even was without her badge as part of her identity.

Hugging her one final time, Fin apologized for interrupting, to which both Olivia and Dr. Lindstrom said that they didn't mind at all. He had, after all, been bringing important news. Saying his goodbyes, Fin left, but not before making Olivia promise she would call him if she needed anything.

Dr. Lindstrom gave Olivia a few minutes to digest and absorb the news she'd just heard, before moving forward with any questions. He didn't need an advanced degree in psychology to know what her first question to him would be – how this was going to affect her job. He hoped that he could convince her to take an extended leave of absence, to give her mind and body time to heal from everything that she'd been through.

"Olivia, why don't we talk about what you are feeling right now?"

"What I'm feeling? I'm feeling like someone gave me my life back! I can still continue the career that means the world to me!"

Seeing the expression on the psychiatrist's face, Olivia held up a palm, realizing immediately where his train of thought had gone.

"Granted, not immediately, Doctor. I understand that. But my life hasn't been stolen from me like I thought it had. I know I'll need to take the necessary time to heal – and I will – a few weeks at least."

Dr. Lindstrom was more concerned than ever now that his patient hadn't fully accepted the gravity of what had happened to her. She was clearly still in the denial phase, and that certainly wasn't healthy. What he was about to say next wouldn't go over well, but it needed to be said.

"Olivia, for what you've been through, a couple of weeks aren't going to be enough. I'm recommending that you take several months off – six at the minimum. Plus, I want to start you on medication."

Six months? Was he serious? Olivia was in disbelief. That was half a year! How could he expect her to take that much time off of work – how could anyone? She had a unit to run, people depended on her! She had nothing against Lieutenant Murphy, but the SVU squad was hers, Cragen had specifically entrusted it to her when he had retired. She couldn't let him down. On top of that, the last thing she wanted – or needed – was medication messing with her brain and getting her all jumbled up. She was going to have to refuse, on both counts.

"It's not open to negotiation, Olivia. I'm not going to sign your work release forms right now – and before you think of switching to another psychiatrist, there is no one else who would. You've been through two extreme traumas in a short amount of time, you need to allow yourself time to heal."

Much like when she'd been told that she'd need to stay in the hospital, Olivia resigned herself to the inevitable – for now. Still, her mind was already turning with ways to get around it. There was no way she was going to sit at home for half of a year and do absolutely nothing.

Before she realized it, Olivia was pulled out of her daze when Dr. Lindstrom was talking yet again – this time about another topic she wanted nothing to do with – medication. Figuring it would do her no good to argue, she told herself she could always go along with it for now, then stop taking it as soon as she was at home and on her own. There was no way she was going to be stuck in some perpetual fog for the rest of her life. Not that she condemned those treatments for those who really needed them, but she was _fine_. All she needed was a few days of rest to get back on her feet, and everything could go back to normal.

"I'm going to start you on a low dosage of citalopram – only ten milligrams – and we'll see how you do with that. If all goes well, I'd like to get you up to twenty for a daily level, but we'll take that one step at a time."

Even despite her reservations, Olivia couldn't help feeling the slightest bit curious.

"What exactly will that do?"

"Citalopram is what we call an SSRI - a selective serotonin reuptake inhibitor – it works to restore the level of serotonin in your brain. Besides acting as an antidepressant, it also should help to reduce your levels of anxiety, and has also been shown to have some success in people with PTSD."

Sighing, Olivia ultimately nodded her consent. She had to admit the benefits of this medication sounded appealing. Especially if it helped with all that Dr. Lindstrom claimed it did. At least now she knew he had no plans to ply her with tranquilizers or anything of that sort that would have sedating effects on her mind and body. Though she still abhorred the idea, one pill a day would be manageable – for a short time.

After making sure Olivia didn't have anything else she needed to cover at the moment, Dr. Lindstrom said that he'd be giving her some time to rest. He promised to check in on her again later in the day though, before he left the hospital. Dr. Reynolds would be in to see her at some point that afternoon or evening, too. On his way out, he would be stopping by the nurses station to enter the order for the medication in her chart, so she could start taking the citalopram tonight.

Olivia thanked him, then watched him go. Using one of the buttons on her the hand rail of her bed, she lowered herself down somewhat, intent on trying to get a brief rest before she was interrupted again. The morning and afternoon had taken more of a toll on her than she was willing to admit, and all she wanted to do now was close her eyes for a bit. Maybe doing so now in the light of day would keep the images of William Lewis from haunting her dreams.

* * *

Two days later, Olivia was being discharged from the hospital. To her great relief, both Dr. Reynolds and Dr. Lindstrom had jointly agreed that an admission to the psychiatric ward would not be necessary. However, they wanted her to follow an intense routine in terms of outpatient care. She was to meet with Dr. Lindstrom twice a week for the next several weeks, not only to monitor how well she was adjusting to the medication, but to determine if she needed any additional therapies added to her treatment regimen.

Though she was reluctant to admit it to anyone, there was one thing that Olivia was hesitant about – being in her apartment alone. Not that apartment itself, she felt safe enough there, but the fact that she no longer had a weapon with which to protect herself. As part of the investigation, her firearm had yet again been confiscated, and she wouldn't get a new one until her return to the job. She supposed she could always purchase an off duty weapon, as many cops had them, except she had promised Dr. Lindstrom that she wouldn't make any impulsive purchases of that nature.

As Olivia entered her apartment, securely locking the door behind her, she dropped her bag down on the couch and looked around. She knew she had next to nothing in the way of groceries in her kitchen, and to be honest, she really didn't care. Now that she was no longer under the microscope that had monitored her in the hospital, she could do as she pleased.

First things first – she wanted to grab the hottest shower imaginable and scrub herself clean. Even though she'd had the opportunity to wash while inpatient, Olivia swore she could still feel Lewis' hands crawling on her skin. Not to mention, there was the persistent burning sensation on her temple where she had held the gun. She didn't know what she could do to free herself from that, though.

When she had first come home after her last ordeal, she had locked herself in the bathroom with a pair of scissors and cut away at the locks that Lewis had taken such pleasure in dragging her around by. Now, her hair was still short, so that really wasn't an option. She needed to find some sort of outlet to release the pain and torment she was feeling. Talking about it would help some, but it wouldn't solve everything. There were some things she just couldn't say. Not without earning herself a first class ticket back to the hospital.

What she wanted most right now was to lose herself in a bottle of wine, or even two. But she didn't have that luxury – at least not right not. Thanks to the damn medication that Dr. Lindstrom had her on, alcohol was not a wise choice. At least it wasn't required that she take it with food, Olivia supposed. She should be grateful for small favors.

She was about to go into her room and change when a knock at the door interrupted her current train of thought. Not expecting any visitors, Olivia was instantly on high alert. Yet again, she lamented the fact that she had no way of protecting herself against intruders. Then again, she wondered to herself, what type of intruder makes the effort to knock politely first? Going to the door, she looked through the peephole and instantly relaxed. Her heart swelled with warmth, and a tear came to her eye. Undoing the chain and the deadbolt, she swung it open to greet the man on the other side.

"Captain."

Donald Cragen, one time leader of the Special Victims Unit, stepped into the apartment and wrapped his arms around his former detective – now a Sergeant and his successor – in a gentle hug.

"Olivia, please, what have I told you? I'm not your superior officer anymore. Call me Don."

There wasn't any point in Olivia keeping any pretense. Even though Don was retired, she knew he still had his connections with the department. Plus, he had likely seen her 'confession' on the press conference, and figured out what had been going on. He had, after all, been front and center when Lewis had taken her the first time. She knew the man still carried a lot of guilt for having sent her home to her apartment for two days back then. Of all the people she had blamed – the courts for having set Lewis free, Vanessa Mayer for falling for her client's charms, but mostly Lewis himself – she had never blamed her captain or her fellow squad members. If anything, she had been relieved they hadn't fallen victim to Lewis' wrath themselves.

"I won't insult you, Olivia, by asking you how you're doing right now. In fact, you don't have to talk to me about it at all if you don't want to. That's not why I came here."

Leading Don to her living room, Olivia moved the bag that was sitting on her couch, and gestured to him to make himself comfortable. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she recalled the niceties of having manners, and she asked if he wanted something to drink. He waved her off, instead pleading with her to sit.

"Thank you, Olivia, but I don't need a drink. I'm actually here because I wanted to offer _you_ something."

More confused than ever, but also equally curious, all Olivia could do was nod. She would listen to whatever it was he had to say. She sat there, incredulous as her former Captain explained how he and his wife, Eileen, recently acquired a small cottage in Cape May, New Jersey. The plan was for them to spend time there when they weren't traveling, somewhere outside of the chaos of the city that he had called home for so many years.

Olivia just managed to nod politely, feigning interest as best she could. She didn't understand why Don was telling her all this, unless it was his attempt at distraction.

"So what do you say, Olivia?"

What did she say to what? Had there been a question in there somewhere? Belatedly, Olivia remembered that Don had said something about wanting to offer her something. At the risk of sounding stupid, she racked her brain the best she could to replay the most recent conversation. He'd been talking about the cottage in Cape May, said that it would make the perfect retreat for her – wait a minute – had he been offering to let her stay at his home?

"Are you saying what I think you are, Don?"

"I'm saying that the cottage is yours to use, rent free, for as long as you want it. The only thing I had worries about is that the location might be too triggering for you, being so close to the beach and all."

Allowing herself a moment to break down, Olivia covered her mouth as a solitary sob escaped. This, this is exactly what she needed – to get away from the city and all the memories it held – even if only for a little while. Manhattan would always be her home, but for now, it wasn't where she was happy. Plus, Dr. Lindstrom had told her she needed to take time off. That would be easier to do if she were somewhere else. Telling her former Captain she needed some time to think it over, Olivia stood. Cragen stood too, taking his cue to leave. He told her to take as long as she needed, for the offer didn't have an expiration date, and that she could call him whenever. Embracing her one final time, he saw himself out.

Exactly two weeks later, Olivia was almost ready to be on her way. A few days after Cragen had visited, she had called him on the phone, letting him know that she would accept his generous offer.

In addition to phoning Cragen, she'd also worked out an arrangement with Dr. Lindstrom, so that she would still be able to check in twice weekly, just as planned. The only difference was her sessions would be done over video call instead of in person. Her prescription was going to be transferred to the local pharmacy up in Cape May, so she could continue taking her medication, too. Finally, she had spoken to her landlord, put her mail on hold, and set up all her other bills to be automatically paid while she was gone. If it came down to it, she was only going to be a little over two hours away, so she could easily make a trip to the city to take care of some business if absolutely necessary.

By some small miracle, she had managed to decide which of her belongings to bring with her. Currently, she was trying to figure out how to get her small trunk and two suitcases down to her new compact SUV. On a bit of an impulse buy, she'd traded in her car last week for a sportier four wheel drive model. If she ended up staying in Cape May the full six months of her extended sabbatical, then that would put her there in the winter, and she wanted to have something more reliable to depend on.

As Olivia continued to go over her conundrum in her mind, a knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. She headed over to answer it, more curious than anxious as to who it could be. The fear still got the best of her at times. She hoped to find a sense of security once she was settled in Cragen's cottage. Opening her door, she found the entire squad standing there – Nick, Fin, and Amanda. Olivia quickly got out of the way to welcome them inside. After each taking a turn to hug her, Fin was the first to speak.

"We hoped we wouldn't be too late, Liv. We know you were wanting to get on the road today."

"That's right, but what are you all doing here? Don't you have to be at work?"

He gave her a look that clearly read 'are you kidding me?'.

"Do you honestly expect us to let you go away for any extended length of time without saying goodbye? Plus, Nick and I are here to help you carry your things down."

"Oh, I couldn't ask you to do that -"

Olivia began to protest, but before she could get very far, Nick interrupted.

"You're not asking, we're offering. There's a difference. Besides, I know you've been up here thinking about just how to do that very thing for the last fifteen minutes."

Laughing despite herself, Olivia had to agree.

"All right, you both win. I accept your help."

Nick swept in and hoisted up her trunk, while Fin lifted a suitcase in each hand. Amanda wrapped an arm around Olivia's shoulders, reminding her that she had a copy of the key, and would be by to check on the apartment weekly. Knowing there was nothing else left to do, Olivia slipped on her jacket, grabbed her purse, and followed them out the door, locking up on her way.

Down in the parking garage, Nick and Fin stowed the bags and trunk in the back of Olivia's SUV. Then the small group stood by while she said her individual goodbyes. Olivia tried to keep her emotions at bay, but no matter how hard she tried, a few tears still escaped. A few minutes later, she was behind the wheel and on her way, watching her friends wave in the rear view mirror.

She drove through the city mostly on autopilot, not really finding her sense of freedom until she crossed the border into New Jersey and hit the Garden State Parkway. Once she was on the open road, Olivia turned up the radio and let the miles sail by trying to imagine that she was leaving the past behind as well. Yes, she would be going home someday, but it would be as the broken person she knew now.

A little over two and a half hours later, Olivia was arriving in the picturesque town of Cape May. Before heading directly to the cottage, she stopped first at a local grocery store to stock up on some basic necessities. Cragen had told her that the house and kitchen were fully equipped, so the only thing she would need to bring was her clothes, toiletries, and personal items – plus food, of course. It was nice knowing that she wouldn't have to worry about things such as sheets or towels, or even cookware, plates, and appliances. It saved her so much hassle.

After spending about twenty minutes at the store, Olivia left with three full bags, plus the store's number should she ever need to place an order. The cashier had also been kind enough to give her a small directory of local shops and restaurants, something that would come in handy during the coming months.

Entering the street address for the cottage into the GPS, she followed the step by step instructions on getting there. As it turned out, it seemed the place was only a short distance from the store. She had spied the Cape May lighthouse when in the grocer's parking lot and had hoped she would get a view from where she would be staying. Turns out, it would be less than a block away.

In the opposite direction, on the horizon, the Atlantic Ocean could be seen. Olivia remembered then that Cragen had said the cottage was about a block away from the beach. It wasn't a public beach, so she wouldn't have to worry about it being flooded with tourists looking to swim, but it would give her a place to walk along the shoreline on days or nights when she needed to get lost in her thoughts.

The GPS pinged softly, signaling that she had arrived at her destination. Olivia turned into a driveway, marveling at the two story cottage before her. If she remembered correctly from what Don had told her, it had three bedrooms, plus two and a half baths. Not that _she_ needed that much space, but she supposed that sometimes he and Eileen might like to entertain guests.

As she was getting out of the car, Olivia noticed over the fence a man was tossing a Frisbee around with two teenage boys she figured to be his sons. He saw and her, smiled, and waved. Returning the gesture, she waved back, then headed for the cottage door to unlock it, planning to come back for the items in the SUV once she'd checked things out inside.

The place was even more beautiful than Don had described. The exterior of the cottage was Victorian in design, even if some of the newer features – such as the kitchen – were modern in nature. Taking a quick walk through tour, Olivia went from room to room, marveling at all she saw.

The first level consisted mainly of an open floor plan, with a living room, dining room and kitchen. A set of stairs split the living room from the kitchen, and underneath the stairway were two doors. Opening each, she found a powder room behind one, and a small washer and dryer combo behind the other.

Climbing the steps to the second floor, Olivia noticed that it divided purposely into two directions – to the left were two bedrooms, with a bathroom in between, and to the right was what she guessed to be the master bedroom, likely with its own private bath. Heading toward the main bedroom, she was again astounded by the elegance she found beyond the doorway.

A king size bed was the main focal point of the room, complete with a padded headboard. It faced a chest of drawers that held a television, which Olivia took comfort in. Sometimes, she still needed background noise to fall asleep to, and knowing she'd be able to have that here meant the world to her. Taking a few steps further, she decided to inspect the bathroom. There, she found something that she didn't realize actually existed anymore.

In one corner of the bath was an over sized, antique claw foot tub. It had even been modified slightly to double as a shower, complete with a curtain to draw around it. On the window ledge behind it, a bank of candles sat waiting to be lit and enhance the bath time experience.

Before she could get lost in her new world any more, Olivia hurried back down to her vehicle to bring in her things. To her surprise, the neighbor who had been out in his yard was standing by his fence waiting to greet her.

"Hello. Sorry if I startled you, but I wanted to come over and introduce myself. Don had mentioned that a friend of his would be staying here for awhile."

Feeling more at ease, Olivia smiled and held out her hand.

"Yes, I'm a friend of Don's. We used to work together. I'm Olivia Benson."

"I'm Owen Winter. My wife is out shopping at the moment, you'll have to meet her later, her name is Stacy. These two are my boys, Jacob and Jonathan."

Olivia shook hands with the teenagers as well, and soon learned that Jacob was fifteen, while his brother Jonathan had just turned thirteen.

Then, Owen was asking her another question.

"Do you need any help with your things? I'm sure you must have a lot to unpack."

Her first instinct was to say no, but after a second thought, she gave in and accepted the help. There was no way she wanted to struggle with the trunk and two suitcases. She would, however, insist on carrying in her own groceries.

Thanks to help from Owen Winters and his boys, Olivia not only had her heavy things in the house, but they were upstairs as well. The only thing she regretted was she had no way to properly thank them for their kindness - she had no cold drinks to offer, and she didn't want to insult them by suggesting money. Instead, she accepted an offer from Owen instead – that she come over to for a cookout one night after she had gotten settled in. The only thing Olivia had insisted upon was that she get to bring something to contribute to the meal.

Deciding to put off unpacking until tomorrow, all she did for now was put away the groceries, then dug through her suitcase for something comfortable to change into. Parking herself on the couch in the living room, Olivia put up her feet and tried to make herself at home. It all felt very surreal, still – that this was in fact, going to be her home for the foreseeable future. Still, she'd barely been out of the city for twenty four hours and she already felt like she could breathe better.

A chime on her phone caught her attention, and Olivia picked it up, curious. She almost wasn't going to bring it downstairs with her, but old habits would always die hard. It turned out that it was an incoming text message from Don Cragen. Figuring that her former captain merely wanted to see if she had arrived safely, she read it quickly.

_Olivia – I hope this message finds you safe and settled at the cottage. I'm sorry to spring this on you so suddenly, but I had forgotten that I was having a family friend stop by tonight to check on the rain gutters. It won't take too long, so its nothing you have to worry about. You'll likely recognize them, if not by name, then at least their face._

Her heart rate quickened for a few beats before she convinced herself to calm down. After all this was the whole point of Cragen notifying her beforehand. Plus, from the sounds of things, whomever was coming was someone she had met in the past. Most likely at her boss's retirement party or something like it. Pushing the thought out of her mind for the time being, Olivia focused on relaxing.

Some time later a knock at the door startled her awake. She wasn't even sure when she had fallen asleep, all she knew was it was the first dreamless sleep she'd had in a very long time. Rubbing her eyes, Olivia stood and stretched, then padded toward the door. Ever cautious, she kept one hand on the knob as she called out to the person on the other side.

"Who is it?"

"It's me, Liv. Cragen sent me."

It couldn't be. That was a voice she hadn't heard in almost four years, but still, she'd know it anywhere. Wrenching the door open - and almost tearing her arm out of her socket along with it – Olivia found herself standing face to face with Elliot Stabler. He'd changed over the years, his face looked more worn than before and he was now sporting a mustache and goatee. Plus his physique was leaner and more sinewy, as though he'd been to hell and back, but somehow managed to keep all of his muscles. She studied his form intently for several minutes before finally landing on his eyes – they were still the same calm, steady blue that she remembered, and that was where she found her solace.

In that moment Olivia forgot about everything. All the years of worry for him, the anger, the resentment. Even the bitterness evaporated away. All that mattered was that the man she needed most was standing right here in front of her. There would be time later to yell, to fight, to rant and rave. Right now there were only five words she wanted to say. Throwing her arms around his neck with a sob, she let them fall from her lips.

" _I'm really glad you're back_."

His answering embrace was the only comfort she needed, as was his reply. He'd said it to her only once before, at another time she'd been distraught. Feeling his lips graze her temple, the voice she had longed so many months for was finally in her ear.

" _I should have come back sooner_."

* * *


	2. Reunion

**Disclaimer: SVU and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. I own nothing.**

* * *

They stood there for endless minutes, embracing in the doorway. Finally, it was Olivia who pulled away. She was convinced this was somehow all a dream, a figment of her imagination. Taking a step backwards into the safety of the cottage, she tugged Elliot in with her. He followed, closing the door behind him.

"Is this for real? Am I imagining you?"

"I'm here, Liv. An honest-to-goodness corporeal being. Do you need to punch me in order to believe it? Go on, I know I deserve it."

His offer was tempting, she had to give him that. But the only effect his words had on her at the moment was to make her laugh – something she hadn't been able to do with genuine feeling in ages. The lightness that had temporarily taken over was quickly replaced once again by the heaviness in her soul, but for a fleeting moment, Olivia had remembered what it was like to feel free.

"Don't think I haven't considered it, Stabler. However, being angry with you takes an energy I don't have at the moment. I will say though, that I reserve the right to yell at you at any time."

"Noted."

Still clinging to Elliot's hand, she led him over to the couch. It was as if she believed if she were to let go, he would simply disappear as magically as he had arrived. Bracing herself for the news that she would only be granted a few hours in his presence before he would leave for the unknown yet again, she asked the inevitable question, wanting to prepare herself this time for his eventual leaving.

"How soon before you have to go?"

There was no mistaking the anguished look that crossed Elliot's face. He knew his abrupt departure had hurt Olivia deeply, but never had he imagined he would have wounded her like this. She almost looked as though she were afraid to ask the question – like she didn't even want to know the answer.

"I'm here in Cape May for as long as you are, Liv – if you'll have me, that is. I don't have anything concrete planned yet, but I can find an efficiency nearby and visit you as often as you'd like."

Olivia was quiet for a long time, and Elliot read that as hesitancy on her part. Tripping over his words, he tried to explain himself better, realizing he'd likely shocked her into silence.

"Please understand that I'm not trying to pressure you. I know I have a lot to make up for. The way I left was cowardly, and you deserved so much better. It's just that when Cragen called me and said you were taking a sabbatical up here, I asked if he thought you'd mind if I came to see you."

Gradually, reality began to dawn on Olivia. This was real, _he_ was real. She wasn't having one of her many dreams that resulted in finding herself back in the clutches of William Lewis. Another thought occurred to her then – what did Elliot know about her recent history? He certainly hadn't alluded to having any knowledge about it, but then again, they'd only been talking for the past fifteen minutes. Most of that had been about him reassuring her that she wasn't imagining things.

There were so many things she wanted to ask him, first and foremost being, where the hell had he been? She was still clinging to the hope that he had been somewhere out of contact, because she didn't want to believe that he could have been in the city all this time and not gotten in touch with her after hearing about the atrocities she had lived through. The more Olivia thought, the more lost in her mind she became.

"Liv?"

Olivia felt a gentle pressure on her thigh, and startled instantly, striking out with her fists to combat against her would be assailant. Her panic only increased when she made contact with a flesh and bone being only a few feet away. In full fight or flight mode now, she tried to run, holding back the sobs that tried to escape her throat. Tripping over her own feet, the floor rose up to meet her as she fell, and she tasted blood the instant her tooth cut into her lip upon the impact. William Lewis was back – he'd cheated death once more, and he'd found her again. She wasn't sure she had the strength to fight him off for a third time. Olivia lay on the floor and curled herself into a fetal position, placing her hands over her ears and closing her eyes tight. She was unaware of the steady stream of words that echoed from her lips on a fierce whisper.

* * *

Elliot looked on, frightened and concerned, as his former partner unraveled completely. He racked his brain trying to think of anything he could have said or done to upset her so terribly, but came up with nothing. When realization finally did hit though, it was like a punch to the gut. It may have been three years since he was last an active duty special victims detective, but he knew a flashback when he saw one. This one in particular that was affecting Olivia appeared to be devastating.

Without any clue of knowing what had triggered it, he instead focused on getting her out of it and back to the present as quickly as possible. Making no attempt to touch her, for fear of frightening her even more, Elliot knelt on the floor beside her. He crouched down low so she could hear him, and began to speak in a calm, soothing voice.

"Olivia, its Elliot. Try and focus on my voice. You're safe."

His efforts were having no effect on the woman on the floor, as she was too lost in her personal nightmare at the moment. As Olivia began to rock back and forth, the words leaving her mouth became clearer, and Elliot felt ill.

"Just shoot me. Just shoot me. Just shoot me."

 _What the hell had happened to her_? Elliot wondered. However, there was no time to dwell on that now, he had to bring her back to him. Though he hated to be forceful with her at a time like this, his calm tone clearly wasn't working.

"Olivia!"

He called to her again, more sharply this time. While the woman on the floor didn't respond, she had stopped with her chanting and stilled somewhat. Trying again, he repeated her name over and over, telling her who he was, that he was with her, and that she was safe. Finally, after endless minutes, Olivia lowered her hands from her ears and began to blink into awareness.

"Elliot?"

Her voice sounded drowsy and hesitant, with a tinge of shame behind it. If he didn't know better, he would have thought she were trying not to cry. Forcing himself to act as normal as possible, because even though he'd just been thrown for a complete loop, it was nothing compared to what she was dealing with, Elliot answered her.

"I'm here, Liv."

"How did I get on the floor?"

Elliot was torn. He didn't want to lie to her, but he also didn't know how to broach the subject. Olivia would undoubtedly be embarrassed by her flashback experience, especially considering that one had happened in his presence. Instead, he focused his energies on getting her on her feet again and back on the couch.

"We'll talk about that in a minute. First, let's work on getting you up. Is it all right if I help you?"

He wanted to make sure he had her consent to touch her, especially after unknowingly triggering her before, but the question unwittingly proved to be a red flag. All it served to do was earn him Olivia's ire. She shoved his hands away angrily, and got to her feet on her own.

"Stop treating me like I'm one of the helpless victims you used to take care of, Stabler. You're not on the job anymore, remember?"

Her words were as efficient as a slap to the face, and hurt just as deeply. But she was wrong on one account, and he intended to tell her as much.

"I suppose I deserved that Liv – and so much more. But know this - I have _never_ seen you as helpless. You are the strongest woman I've ever known. I don't know what you've been through, and I don't expect you to tell me - I know I have to earn that trust back – but you will always be a survivor."

Olivia was still feeling extremely embarrassed by what had happened, but his reassuring words had served to quell some of her anger. Even so, a part of her did want to go and hide for awhile until the incident could be forgotten. Self consciously, she licked her lower lip, then winced in pain as her tongue slid over the part where her tooth had pierced the sensitive skin when she had fallen.

"Let me help you with that, Liv. Do you know if there is any ice in the freezer?"

Olivia only shrugged by way of answering, and he didn't worry too much about it. Without touching her physically, Elliot led her over to the couch so she could sit. Then he hurried into the kitchen. It took some searching in cabinets and drawers, but he found what he was looking for. Minutes later, he returned with two Tylenol, a glass of water, and an impromptu ice pack wrapped in a dish towel.

"Take these. You may think you don't need them, but you will eventually. You hit the floor hard."

Wordlessly, Olivia held out her palm, accepting the tablets, then swallowed them with the water. Then she took the ice pack he had made, and held it against her sore lip. She knew that because of what had happened, Elliot was hesitant to touch her. It was something that gave her mixed feelings. Part of her longed for his comfort, but the other part was grateful he was keeping his distance.

They sat there in silence for the next several minutes, the only sound in the room their synchronized breathing. Olivia found a sense of peace in knowing that, even after all these years apart, they could be so in tune with one another. When her lip was sufficiently numb, she lowered the ice pack, still clutching it tightly in her palm. The cold against her hand was grounding her, providing a distraction from the thoughts racing through her mind.

"Do you need me to leave, Olivia? If you want to be alone right now, just say the word, and I'll go."

This was not the Elliot Stabler that she once knew. Whatever had happened to him since she'd seen him last must have changed him irrevocably. The old Elliot would be insisting she tell him what happened, be threatening to find her assailant and tear him limb from limb. This quiet man who sat beside her bore little resemblance to the partner she walked beside for twelve years. He was giving her space, even going so far as to remove himself from the equation – again. Little did he know that now that she had him back in her life, even if it was in the smallest capacity, losing him for a second time would be unbearable.

Gathering all her courage, Olivia spoke for the first time since her earlier outburst. It wasn't a heartfelt monologue about how she felt or a brave soliloquy detailing her ordeal – but merely a single word – a whisper of a plea.

"Stay."

* * *

It was already evening, and Olivia hadn't eaten anything all day. She wasn't about to reveal this detail to Elliot though, although she had a sinking suspicion he could already figure that one out. As if that wasn't bad enough, her stomach had to be a traitor and call her out by growling loudly at the most inopportune time.

She had just asked him to stay, taking every ounce of courage she possessed, and was about to take it one step further – to ask him to spend this first night with her in the cottage. Not that she had anything to fear here, but the thought of being in a new place was playing on her anxiety more than she thought it would. She was certain she'd have made it on her own one way or another, but now that he was here, and she knew he didn't actually have a place to stay, what was the harm of offering him one of the spare rooms for a day or two until he found a more permanent arrangement?

Before she'd had a chance to put forth the question, though, her stomach had complained. Olivia had felt Elliot's watchful eyes upon her then, not needing to see him to know he had a concerned expression on his face.

"Olivia. I'm still not going to push you to talk, but at least tell me this – when was the last time you took proper care of yourself?"

Though there was nothing remotely funny about what he'd just asked, a smile played at her lips nonetheless. Did he even realize just how complex of a question that really was?

"You've known me for how long, Stabler? What do you think?"

Smirking now, Elliot shook his head.

"Let me rephrase that then. When was the last time you _ate_ anything?"

Olivia drew her lower lip between her teeth, careful not to reopen the earlier wound. She couldn't lie about this – he'd know right away if she did. But if she told the truth, he'd likely admonish her just the same. What could she do?

"Liv..."

He prompted her again gently, and it was like being taken back in time. The years faded away, and they were back in the squad room again, at each other's throats over a tough case, but he was still making sure she took the necessary naps in the cribs and ate at regular intervals. No matter how angry she could be with him at times, she'd never been able to lie to him – not even now.

"Two days ago – I think."

On his feet, Elliot was heading for the kitchen once more. Olivia wanted to tell him it wasn't necessary, but she knew it would be useless.

"You _think_ you last ate two days ago? Olivia, you can't do this to yourself! I'm getting you something to eat right now!"

Olivia sighed. This was the last thing she wanted. But maybe there was still a way to stop him, a way to come to a compromise. She thought for a minute as she listened to him root around in the refrigerator, knowing he likely wouldn't find anything suitable for making a decent meal. Yes, she'd bought some grocery items for stocking the pantry and such, but nothing that would sustain a normal diet. Then she remembered the directory she'd been given at the store. They could use that to find a place to order from.

"Elliot, wait."

"No, Liv. I know I promised you I'm not going to pressure you, but this is where I'm going to stand firm. You need to eat."

Picking up the directory from the coffee table where she'd set it earlier, Olivia carried it into the kitchen. Holding out in his direction, she tried to explain.

"I understand that, I'm just trying to say you don't have to cook for me. The grocery store gave me this earlier today. We can pick a place and order in."

"And you'll eat?"

He was studying her intently as he awaited her answer, scrutinizing her almost. Olivia didn't want to lie and say yes, when she couldn't guarantee that she'd be able to handle a complete meal. However she didn't want to create any tension between them either. So, instead, she offered the best olive branch she knew how.

"I'll try. That's the best I can do."

Finally daring to touch her once more, Elliot reached out and gently rested his hand on top of hers where it lay on the countertop. He only left it there for a moment before removing it yet again, but it provided Olivia with the reassurance that she had needed.

"That's all I ask."

Together, they looked through the directory, and made a decision, Elliot primarily deferring to Olivia in this instance, though he'd never tell her that. After figuring out what to order, Elliot wrote it down on a piece of paper, along with the address for the cottage so he could make the phone call. Olivia, on the other hand, excused herself for a few minutes so she could go and freshen up. She wanted to wash her face after everything that had happened, to try and feel more like herself again. Before she left, she instructed Elliot to make himself at home, and said that she'd be back soon.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Olivia came back downstairs. She'd washed her face, and had secretly taken one of the lorazepam that Dr. Lindstrom had prescribed for emergencies such as her panic attacks and after her flashbacks. When he'd first suggested it, she'd been resistant, but now she was relieved to have something as a safety net when her daily medication wasn't strong enough to get her though. The one thing that had convinced her to agree was learning that it was the lowest dose available - only half a milligram - and she was free to break the tablets in half if she so chose. While the drug had a mildly sedating effect, it didn't make her want to sleep. She was able to remain lucid and in control of all of her faculties, and that was what counted.

She found Elliot in the living room, and just as she'd suggested to him, it appeared that he'd taken her at her word and made himself comfortable. His shoes were off and resting by the door, and he sat on the couch, his one ankle propped on the opposite knee. His arm was draped over the furniture's back, and he had slouched down somewhat in his posture. Upon hearing footsteps, he turned his head in her direction, smiling as soon as she came into view. To Olivia's relief, he made no mention of what had happened earlier.

"Hey, Liv. Food should be here in about twenty more minutes. I hope you don't mind, but I helped myself to some things in your kitchen and made us some iced tea to drink while I waited for you to get back."

What was that again? She wondered. Oh, right. Tea. She could handle tea. Olivia convinced herself this was not a complicated conversation. As long as things didn't get more detailed than this, she'd be just fine.

"That's fine, Elliot. Thank you. Something to drink hadn't even occurred to me."

Though it felt awkward as hell, especially in light of the way she had reacted recently, Olivia forced herself to walk over and take a seat on the opposite end of the couch and face him. How was it that once upon a time they had known the most intimate details of each other's lives, and now Elliot felt like a complete stranger? Yet, at the same time, there was no one else she wanted in this town with her more.

"Liv?"

There it was again, that hauntingly painful nickname falling from his lips. He'd called her by it several times now, and not once had it occurred to her to tell him to stop. As much as it hurt to hear, somehow not hearing it would be even worse. And yet, she was well aware that she had yet to refer to him by the nickname she'd bestowed on him all those years ago. Instead, it had consistently been either his full first or last name – if she had chosen to address him by name at all. Maybe she wasn't doing as well with her former partner's abrupt return as she thought.

"Yeah?"

"I don't want to keep pressuring you, and feel free to tell me to shut up, but I'm going to ask you again – do you need me to leave?"

She was silent again for far too long in the aftermath of his question. Elliot still didn't know any of the details, but he was picking up on each and every one of Olivia's tells. Something was very seriously wrong here, something that Cragen had neglected to mention. Whatever was going on, this wasn't a normal sabbatical. He should have known better. When had he ever known Olivia to take time off for any reason, let alone six month's worth – voluntarily, no less?

"No. I don't want you to leave. It's just that I don't quite know what to say. It's funny – I always imagined that if I ever saw you again, I'd have it all planned out – but I'm at a complete loss."

Smiling wistfully, Elliot shrugged his shoulders and held out his hands in a helpless gesture.

"You're not the only one who is grasping for straws here, Liv. I'm not going to sugar coat things – I know I'm the one who is responsible for that – I fucked up, big time. If you'll give me the chance, I'd like to try and get to know you again."

Before Olivia had a chance to answer, there was a knock at the door, and she very nearly jumped out of her skin. Out of habit, she reflexively reached toward her hip for a gun that hadn't been there for a few weeks now, another action that didn't escape Elliot's notice. Pretending he hadn't seen, he acted as if nothing had happened.

"Don't worry, dinner is on me. Why don't you go get settled at the table, and I'll bring it right in? Unless of course, you'd rather eat in here?"

Now, this was a question that required a response. Olivia mulled it over briefly as Elliot headed toward the door, calling out that he was on his way. Finding her voice, she was able to give a reply – surprisingly with more truth than she'd thought herself capable of in the moment.

"I'd actually prefer to stay in here. That way, we can watch something while we eat. Plus, I'm starting to feel the effects of that fall more than I thought I would."

Having already paid for the food, Elliot closed the door behind the departing deliveryman and rushed back to her side in an instant upon hearing her words. He deposited their dinner haphazardly on the coffee table and joined her once more on the couch, still keeping a respectful distance, but concern evident on his face.

"What do you mean? Are you in pain? Do you need me to take you to the hospital?"

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Olivia reassessed her earlier analysis. Maybe Elliot hadn't changed that much after all. The man sitting beside her right now was certainly acting an awful lot like her former partner – the person who was always hyper aware of any possible need she could have if she complained of so much as a hangnail in the past.

"I'm fine."

The words were hauntingly familiar, and brought a new wave of pain to both individuals sitting on the couch. Olivia hadn't spoken them intentionally, the phrase had instead come from muscle memory. She'd almost even let an "El" escape her lips, but had been able to stop herself just in time. Clearing her throat, Olivia tried to pretend she hadn't uttered the phrase at all, and instead tried to change the subject.

"We should eat."

Not wanting to argue, Elliot headed for the kitchen for the third time since his arrival earlier in the day. It took a bit of searching again, but he found a couple of plates and brought them back with him, along with a handful of napkins he'd spied in a package on the counter. Though he desperately wanted to see Olivia eat heartily, he swore to himself he wouldn't push her, so long as she at least ate _something_. Beyond everything else he had witnessed already, having heard that she had gone two days without food had him terrified for her welfare.

Now, he knew that he hadn't been imagining things – she really was thinner than he remembered.

* * *

They sat on the couch together, at separate ends, with something random playing on the television. They'd found one of the local channels that detailed the many activities and attractions available in Cape May. It suited them perfectly, as they could watch passively without having to take an actual interest. Truth be told, Elliot was spending more of his time keeping a watchful eye on Olivia, but he hadn't wanted to stare. In the same amount of time he'd had four pieces of pizza – plus the same amount of breadsticks – she'd barely eaten half of the lone slice on her plate. As for the breadstick that he'd encouraged her to take, she was currently tearing that to shreds while she stared ahead into space.

Suddenly, with a movement so abrupt that it startled Elliot enough to make him jump slightly, Olivia was up and out of her seat. She hastily tossed her plate onto the coffee table as she ran in the direction of the stairs – not heading up them – but to the powder room located beneath them. The sound of a toilet lid clattering followed by retching could be heard, and Elliot's heart shattered once more.

Even though he knew he likely wouldn't be welcome, his instinct to want to protect and comfort her was still strong. Following the path she had taken, Elliot stood in the open doorway of the powder room for only a second before making his decision. Crossing the few steps to kneel beside her, he gently gathered Olivia's hair up in one hand, careful to keep his grip as light as possible. Not wanting to touch her in any other way, he instead spoke to her soothingly.

"It's all right, Liv. Let it all out. I'm right here."

Olivia continued to cough and gag for several more endless minutes, her hands clinging to the porcelain bowl as a means to try and steady herself. Through no control of her own, tears streamed down her face, an unintended effect from her having been unable to hold down her dinner. When she was finally spent, she sat back on her heels, more humiliated than ever before.

Elliot, however, had no intention of letting her feel that way. Acting as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened, he released her hair, letting it fall back to just barely brushing her shoulders. Then, he eased himself back to a standing position, and murmured softly that he would be right back. True to his word, he returned a few seconds later, holding out a glass of water for Olivia to sip from. He'd also brought a napkin for her to use to wipe her mouth.

It was only when he felt that she was steady enough that Elliot asked Olivia if she'd like to try standing again. Then, he wet a dishcloth he'd brought in from the kitchen – unable to find anything else – and passed it to her wordlessly. Exchanging the cool rag for the glass in her hand, Olivia accepted it and pressed it against her eyes before using it to wipe off her face.

"Thank you."

"No need to thank me. In fact, if anything, I owe you an apology – clearly the pizza was a bad idea."

Breathing out a shaky laugh, Olivia couldn't help but agree. He was clearly trying to make things better here. She couldn't hold it against him. She only hoped he wasn't going to try and make her eat anything else tonight.

"I'll be back. I just want to go upstairs and brush my teeth. Can you-"

"I'll get everything cleaned up and put away while you're gone."

Olivia tried not to think of the way Elliot had so seamlessly read her mind. It was too much for her to process right now. Instead, she poured all of her energy into making it up the stairs, one at a time, so she could complete the simple task of brushing her teeth. Already it was growing dark outside, and she couldn't help but wonder how much longer it would be before Elliot would make his excuses to go, leaving her alone again. But could she actually trust him to come back this time? Plus, where would he stay? Again, her earlier impulsive thoughts of offering him one of the spare rooms came to mind.

Her decision made – at least for tonight – Olivia descended the steps once more. She was relieved to find that Elliot had held true to his word, and cleaned up everything that had been left from their dinner. What he had done with it, she didn't know, nor did she care right now. But what touched her deeply was the the sight of the mug of hot tea that was waiting for her on the coffee table by her spot on the couch. He'd remembered. Even after all this time, he'd remembered. Maybe she wasn't as forgettable to him as she once thought.

"Elliot? Did you mean what you said earlier about wanting to stay – in Cape May, that is?"

Momentarily confused by the abrupt change in direction of the conversation, Elliot was unsure of how to answer at first. Once he realized what she was asking of him, he didn't delay in his answer.

"Of course, Olivia. I'm here for as long as you'll have me. I just need to find a place a stay tonight. I'll find an efficiency nearby as soon as I can."

A few seconds of silence stretched between them, and though he could tell that something was weighing heavily on her mind, Elliot didn't press her to speak.

"Stay here. At least for tonight, or until you find yourself a place. There are two other bedrooms upstairs, and I'm sure Cragen wouldn't mind."

"Yes, but what about you? Would _you_ mind, Olivia? I'm not about to do anything that will make you feel uncomfortable."

She gave him a grim smile and a shrug of the shoulders, lost for words yet again. Finally figuring out what to say, she addressed him once more.

"I'm not going to say it won't be awkward, but I'm asking you to stay anyway. This is my first night here, too, and as much as I wanted this, I'm not so sure anymore that I want to be here alone."

Not pressing the issue any further, Elliot merely nodded his acceptance of her offer.

"All right, if that's what you want. I'll stay. But if you ever change your mind -"

"I get it."

The decision made, Elliot went out to his truck to retrieve his bags, leaving Olivia alone on the couch to drink her tea. When he came back in, he made sure to lock the door behind himself. At Olivia's suggestion, he headed up the stairs, to see which of the two guest rooms he would prefer.

* * *

Elliot returned to living room several minutes later, having found himself a room and taken some time to change into something more comfortable. He found Olivia curled up in one corner of the couch, her knees pulled against her chest and her arms wrapped around her legs. Much like she had been doing earlier, she was staring off into space. There were so many questions he wanted to ask her, but he knew she wasn't ready. Just like he knew now wasn't the time to have the heavy discussion about where he had been the last few years.

Now, he was torn. He wanted to go and sit with her again, but a part of him was afraid of startling her the way he had earlier. Deciding it would be better to announce his presence, he called out her name softly, trying to get her attention.

"Olivia?"

He'd had to say it more than once before she finally acknowledged him, but finally she looked in his direction. Trying to pretend like it was the first time he'd said something, Elliot came up with an excuse.

"Did you need anything before I sat down? More tea, maybe?"

"No, thank you."

Despite her refusal, he went into the kitchen anyway, to refill his own drink, then walked back into the living room. If there were any other place to sit, he would have gladly taken it, but the couch was the lone piece of furniture – aside from the coffee and end tables.

"I'm sorry there isn't much to watch. I brought my devices with me for my streaming services, but I haven't been able to get them set up just yet."

It completely blew Elliot away that Olivia was apologizing to him, especially about something so trivial. He could have cared less what was on the television. Hell, at this point, he'd be willing to watch paint dry, so long as it meant he was allowed to be with her again. It just made his heart ache to see how much pain she was in, and not know the cause of it.

"Don't worry about it. I don't need to watch anything else right now. We don't even have to talk. I'm not expecting you to entertain me."

With nothing to say, they continued to sit in silence, as they learned all there was to know about the town of Cape May. Though he knew it may not be for awhile yet, Elliot longed for the day he could take Olivia to the top of the lighthouse, so they could see the view together. There were other things, too – like exploring the shops in town, and walking on the beach. He didn't know what all she had planned to do during her time here, but he hoped she would let him be a part of it.

Meanwhile, Olivia was exhausted. Even though the drive hadn't been that long, it still had taken a lot out of her. Then there had been the unexpected surprise of Elliot showing up at the door, followed by the horrifying flashback and getting ill when she had tried to eat. It made sense that all she wanted to do now was sleep.

Heading into the other room for a moment, Olivia found her purse where she had hidden it away in a closet. Retrieving a spare key for the cottage – Cragen had given her two – she carried it in and held it out to Elliot.

"While you're staying here, it's only right that you should have this. I don't exactly know what my schedule will be, and don't want you forced to keep it with me. You should be able to come and go as you please."

She placed the key into his open palm, the first time she had voluntarily touched him since their hug when he had first arrived hours earlier. Remembering how she had grabbed his hand immediately after and pulled him into the cottage, Olivia tried to shake the emotion that was overtaking her. How was it that she had found such comfort his touch then, but was practically terrified of the contact now? It wasn't that she was afraid of Elliot exactly - more scared that if she did touch him, that it would shatter the last vestiges of control she was holding onto – and she would have a complete breakdown. She simply couldn't fall apart in his presence. Not again, and not now. She didn't have it in her to confess to him what had happened to her in his absence. It would destroy her to see the look on his face when he learned the truth about how weak she really was.

Grabbing her phone from the coffee table, Olivia also picked up her now empty mug of tea to carry it into the kitchen. As she was rinsing it out at the sink, she heard approaching footsteps and knew Elliot had come to join her.

"I don't blame you Liv. I'm pretty tired myself, I'll probably be headed to bed soon, too. I do have one question though, and I hope you don't mind me asking. Is it okay with you if I use the internet here? I was hoping to have a video chat with the kids at some point."

The mention of his kids sent a fresh wave of pain to Olivia's heart. She hadn't even asked about them, or about Kathy. It was official – she was the most selfish person to have ever lived. Figuring there would be time to atone for her sins tomorrow, she simply answered his question instead.

"Of course, Elliot. I meant it when I said to make yourself comfortable here. Let me write down the network name and password for you, though."

"Or, you can just text it to me, it will save you on paper. My number is still the same."

The mug that Olivia had been rinsing out and was transferring to the dishwasher slipped from her hands and dropped to the floor, shattering into several pieces. Her breathing began to quicken, and tears pricked her eyes. The bastard's number was still the same? He fucking knew? Was his sudden appearance nothing but a pity visit after all? Then, through her haze of anger and anguish, she heard Elliot calling to her once more.

"Liv, wait. What I meant to say was, I just got my old number back when I got a new phone in New York a few days ago. I hadn't even realized it would still be available."

Olivia's breathing gradually began to even out. She didn't even want to consider what can of worms his confession had opened up for them. She didn't have the strength to deal with it right now. Still, she was glad that he had clarified. The explanation brought her a fraction of peace. It meant that whatever had happened in his life in recent years, there was no way for him to have known about the worst parts in hers.

Crouching down on the floor so she could pick up the remnants of the mug that were littered about, she heard Elliot's voice saying to her that he would take care of the mess. In no mood to fight, Olivia stood again, having to dig deep down to find the strength to answer his earlier statement.

"Okay. I'll send them to you. Now if you'll excuse me."

Using what little effort she had left, Olivia said goodnight, promising once more to send him the information for the internet log in. Elliot was slightly confused, but didn't pressure her, merely wished for her to sleep well, and said he would see her in the morning. When she was halfway up the stairs, Olivia turned around to address him one final time.

"Elliot? Promise me something?"

"Anything."

"No matter what you hear tonight, stay in your own room, okay?"

Her words were cryptic, and chilled him to the bone. Now he had more questions than ever, especially in light of what he had witnessed earlier. But if that is what she wanted, he would abide by her wishes, even if it killed him.

"I promise."

Giving him a final weak smile, she turned again, and continued her way up the stairs. Elliot stayed on the first floor for a little while longer, cleaning up the broken mug and making sure everything was locked up securely. Then he turned off the lights and went upstairs himself. Ensconcing himself in the room he'd chosen, he removed his laptop from his bag and got situated in the bed, leaning back against the headboard, trying to reflect on the events of the evening.

* * *

Elliot closed the tab on his browser window, having just finished a video chat with his daughter, Kathleen. Even though he'd just spent time visiting each of his kids not long before his return to the city, he still missed them all so much. Then, once he'd made it back to New York and gotten back in touch with Don Cragen, everything in his life had been a complete whirlwind up until tonight.

Though he knew that the answers to all of his questions about what may have happened to Olivia were quite literally at his fingertips, Elliot resisted the urge. To search her name on the internet without first getting her consent seemed like the ultimate betrayal at this point. As much as he wanted to know what had happened – and his gut told him it had to be something major – he had to wait for her to tell him in her own time.

Instead, he moved the laptop to the bedside table, plugging it in so it could charge overnight. Then, he grabbed his tablet, and propped a few more pillows behind his back. He wasn't so weary yet that he was ready for sleep, but maybe reading a few chapters would serve to quiet his restless mind.

About an hour later, just as he was getting ready to stop reading and turn out the light, a scream unlike anything he'd ever heard before filled the air. The sound conveyed pure terror, and the echoes of it in his ears sent shivers down his spine.

Despite his earlier promises to Olivia that he'd stay in his room no matter what he heard, Elliot was on his feet in an instant and out the door. Even though there was no way he could be heard, he crept across the landing to the other end of the hall, and stood quietly outside the entrance to the main bedroom. Again and again Olivia screamed, and he heard other noises, too – ones that sounded like she was thrashing against the covers – fighting off another would be assailant.

Laying his palm against the surface of the door, Elliot stood there in silence for several minutes. It was as if he were trying to impart his strength to her through the wood. Meanwhile, just as it had been watching her fall to pieces not long after his arrival earlier tonight, his heart was in shreds.

"I'm here, Liv. I'm here."

Though he knew there was no way for her to hear him, he whispered the words anyway. The screaming came to an abrupt halt, followed by a few choking gasps. Leaning in closer, Elliot could swear he heard Olivia muttering a few expletives quietly. Not wanting to linger any longer, in case she should come out and find him standing here, he hastily retreated back to his own room. He'd just shut his own door behind him and collapsed against it when he became aware of the fact that he was crying.

He'd put the question to his own mind before, but now it was back in full force – just what the hell had she been through? He'd like to cast blame for whomever had failed to get in touch with him, but he knows the fault is his own. He was the one who disappeared three years ago, and while he had his reasons, he can't seem to find anything valid enough that would justify them right now. No matter what he'd said to try and convince himself that she would be fine in his absence, Olivia was clearly anything but.

Though he didn't fault Olivia for needing time away from whatever was troubling her, Elliot was currently cursing this strange town he knew nothing about. Back in New York, the city was always alive, and there was always chaos. If ever he couldn't sleep, he could go for a walk or find an open diner or coffee shop somewhere to clear his head. Here, there was nothing to give him that reprieve. Then again, he supposed that was why Olivia had chosen it to begin with. She had needed to escape the madness for awhile, go somewhere she would be free to just _be_ , without any expectations.

Pressing his ear to the door again, he listened carefully for any sound. Hearing nothing, he opened it up, and headed out into the hallway. Using the bathroom between his room and the other bedroom on this side of the landing, he splashed some water on his face. Then, Elliot padded back to bed. He wasn't so sure he would be able to sleep now, be was at least going to try.

Remembering the limited grocery supplies he had seen earlier when searching through the cabinets and refrigerator, he decided he would go to the store in the morning before Olivia got up. Not having any clue how late she slept anymore, however, Elliot set his alarm for an early hour so he would be sure to be back in time. He could afford to miss his daily run just this once, or go later in the day tomorrow.

Turning out the light, he finally tried to settle in against the pillows. He'd been dreaming of reuniting with Olivia ever since he'd had to leave her behind. Never could he have imagined their first meeting would have gone like this. The last thoughts on his mind before drifting off to sleep involved wondering just how the morning would treat both of them.

An hour after he'd fallen asleep, something woke Elliot up in a cold sweat. Reflexively, he reached for his gun, then remembered that the weapon he still carried with him out of habit was still in a locked box in his travel bag. It took him a minute to orient to his surroundings, but once he remembered where he was, he knew instantly what he'd heard. Olivia was screaming again.

Swinging his legs over side of the bed, he pulled himself to a sitting position, and dropped his head into his hands. He wanted to go to her in the worst way possible – burst through that door and pull her into his arms. But he remembered the promise she had dragged from his lips before she had gone to bed. She didn't want his comfort, not for this. Whether it was because she was too proud, or too ashamed, Elliot wasn't sure of the exact reason. Then again, it could just be that she was still mad at him, and he knew he deserved her anger. Part of him would have been relieved in a way if she had punched him instead of hugging him upon his arrival tonight, that would have been an Olivia Benson he'd have known how to deal with with. The woman he had seen so far seemed like a shell of the partner he once knew.

Just as they had before, the screams from across the hall abated, and silence reigned in the house once more. Elliot tried to lay back down again, but he knew he'd never be able to get back to sleep. Instead he lay there, wide eyed and alert, intent to stand guard from afar. Until she was willing to let him in, he'd do his best to keep the monsters out any way he could. Tomorrow, he swore to himself he'd try and reach her – even if it meant taking baby steps to do so.

* * *

Olivia awoke the next morning, with her now typical feeling that she hadn't slept at all. She had just gotten back to a normal routine again, and now the night terrors were back, more debilitating than they had ever been. Dr. Lindstrom had offered to give her a prescription to help her sleep, but so far she'd declined, fearing a dreamless sleep over the haunted dreams she was currently accustomed to. Still, she knew she'd have to make a note of the previous night in her journal, and mention it when she spoke to the doctor later today.

Padding into the adjoining bathroom, she stripped off the clothes she had slept in, and turned the shower on as hot as it could possibly go. This was another part of her daily ritual. At least twice daily, she would stand under scalding hot water, scrubbing her skin raw. No matter how hard she tried though, there were still times she would look in the mirror and be convinced she could see William Lewis' blood staining her face. Or, she would close her eyes and feel his hands roughly pawing at her body over her clothes. Even dead, the man still found ways to haunt her on a daily basis.

After spending endless minutes under the spray of the shower, Olivia emerged and toweled off. She applied a lotion to her breasts and abdomen that she'd been given to help with scar reduction – not that she noticed a difference – and ran a comb through the knots in her hair. When she was back in the bedroom, she dug through her trunk for something to wear, and reminded herself she'd need to unpack later today.

Finally dressed in leggings, an extra long tee shirt, and an oversized hoodie that kept most of her skin out of view, Olivia headed for the kitchen. As she descended the stairs, the smell of fresh brewed coffee reached her nostrils, and she felt her stomach churn. For once though, it wasn't in protest, but in anticipation. Then reality hit her – it hadn't been a dream after all – Elliot really was here.

"Good morning, Liv."

He greeted her as soon as she came into his field of vision, a cup of coffee in his hands and a smile on his lips as he smiled in her direction. For the briefest of moments, Olivia was taken back in time to those endless mornings with him where he'd be waiting for her at their desks at the precinct, or showing up on her doorstep to pick her up to go out on a case. The memory was equal parts comforting and bittersweet.

"Good morning."

She was grateful when he didn't ask her how she slept, though judging by how she felt when she had woken up, he likely had heard her screams through the night. Just another thing for her to feel humiliated about in his presence. To Elliot's credit though, he said nothing about it. He did, however, bring up another topic she dreaded facing – food.

"I woke up early Liv, and made a run to the store to grab a few things. I wasn't sure what you'd want for breakfast, so I thought we could just keep things simple. I did buy some bagels, but I can just make you toast, if that's what you'd prefer."

Relieved that he wasn't going to try and pressure her into eating a full meal, Olivia's posture relaxed. Toast. She could handle toast. On the few mornings she had been eating, that's all she had been able to manage anyway. She just hoped that she would have better luck with breakfast this morning that she'd had with dinner the night before. The last thing she wanted was to throw up in Elliot's presence for a second time.

"I'll have some toast, but you don't have to go to the trouble, I can make it myself."

Elliot shot her a look that while equal parts concerned and stern, was instantly disarming.

"Liv, please. It's no trouble. Let me do this for you."

"Okay."

Olivia went over to the table and sat down, finding comfort in the noises Elliot was making in the kitchen a few steps away. They weren't anything major – the sound of pouring coffee, the opening and shutting of the refrigerator door, the crinkling of the bread bag. Even something as simple as the noise coming from the plunger on the toaster being pressed down reached her ears and was soothing. These were the sounds of living, and they had been so completely absent in her life lately, that she had almost forgotten how much she missed them.

She was pulled from her thoughts when several items appeared on the table in front of her – a tub of spreadable butter, a jar of jelly, a container of cream cheese. Glancing up at the man standing next to her with a look of confusion, Olivia waited for an explanation.

"I wasn't sure how you'd take your toast, Liv. This way, you can fix it just how you like it."

Elliot returned to the table two more times before sitting down. The first was to bring over their cups of coffee, along with some cream and sugar. The second time he carried over their plates, one with two pieces of toast for Olivia, the other holding a bagel for himself. Setting the food down, he watched as his former partner eyed it warily, as though it were an insurmountable challenge she must face as opposed to a simple meal.

"Just eat what you can, Olivia. No pressure."

The toast was still warm as she spread on the butter, and it melted almost on contact. Deciding to keep things simple, she passed on adding any jelly, and took the tiniest of bites. When she was satisfied that her stomach wasn't going to instantly rebel, she tried again, this time eating a bit more. Maybe for once, she'd actually be able to hold something down.

* * *

Later that morning, Olivia was up in her bedroom, getting ready to log in for her session with Dr. Lindstrom. Elliot was still downstairs, thumbing through catalogs from a rental agency that he'd picked up when he'd been out at the store this morning. She hadn't told him much, only that she needed to excuse herself for a meeting. It was best if he assumed it had to do with work for now, even if they both knew she wasn't fooling anyone. The longer she avoided talking about it, the longer she could live in denial.

With Dr. Lindstrom, though, she had to face things head on. As she waited for the video call to connect, Olivia went over in her mind the things she wanted to discuss – and what she didn't. Her eating habits were one such issue, as were her sleeping patterns. Both topics would inevitably be brought up at least once during the course of the appointment, though.

Then, there was the matter of Elliot. She'd mentioned her former partner to her psychiatrist before, so he was more than aware of his existence – as well as his absence in her life. Now, in addition to the tumult she was already dealing with, Dr. Lindstrom would likely want her to assess the emotions that had resurfaced with Elliot's reappearance. While the majority of what she was feeling did amount to relief, there was also a lingering sense of unease, presumably due to the upheaval his arrival had caused on her already fragile emotions.

"Olivia? Olivia, can you hear me?"

From somewhere in the distance, there was a voice calling to her. It was one she vaguely recognized, but she couldn't quite place it. She knew it wasn't Elliot, as he'd assured her he would give her some privacy. Coming back to the present from her daydream, Olivia focused on the computer screen in front of her and saw the face of Dr. Lindstrom watching her with concern. Fortunately for her, she could write the experience off as a poor internet connection, and not lack of attention on her part.

"I'm here, Doctor. Sorry."

"No worries, Olivia. I'm glad to see you are checking in as scheduled. Are you getting settled in okay?"

Olivia resisted the urge to laugh. Nothing about what her psychiatrist had asked was remotely funny, but nevertheless, laughter was still her gut reaction. She most definitely was _not_ getting settled in. So far, upon her arrival, she'd barely bought enough groceries to keep a mouse alive – instead relying on coffee, tea and pantry staples. Then, her former partner of thirteen years who had all but abandoned her had just shown up out of the blue, and the first thing she'd done was throw herself into his arms like a lost child. On top of that, less than half an hour later, she'd been curled into a ball on the floor helpless while images of William Lewis had held her mind prisoner in her most terrifying flashback to date.

Or – maybe she could tell him of how she'd forced herself to eat, only to throw up minutes later – humiliating herself even further. Then, there had been the night terrors, which had likely woken up not only Elliot, but the neighbors as well. On top of all that, she hadn't even started unpacking, and could care less if she lived out of a trunk for as long as she stayed here. No, she was doing just _great_.

"It's going to be an adjustment, that's for sure. I've already noticed that it's quieter here than in the city – but that's part of the reason why I came, right?"

Dr. Lindstrom made a non-committal sound, which Olivia took to mean that he didn't quite believe her. She supposed she couldn't blame him. She didn't believe her, either. How could she expect anyone else to?

"Forgive me for saying this, Olivia, but you look tired. Are you still having trouble sleeping?"

"I'm sure I'll be fine. I think it just has more to do with being the first night in a new place and all."

What was she doing? Olivia wondered. Now she was flat out telling lies. Surely Dr. Lindstrom could see through her bullshit. Over her many years on the job, she had trained herself to be able to nap anywhere – be it catching a ten minute refresher in the car on a stakeout, or a one hour break in the cribs – a new environment should not shake her this much. Then again, she also wasn't used to trying to recover from not just one, but two recent traumas, either. Not to mention the return of someone she'd believed had written her out of his life.

"Olivia?"

"I'm sorry, did you say something?"

Berating herself yet again, Olivia tried to focus her attention on her computer. Part of her feared what Dr. Lindstrom would have to say now. She hadn't even admitted anything that had happened the day before yet, even though she knew she should. Maybe it was because saying it out loud would only make it that much more real.

"I was saying that, while I understand why you've been hesitant, I'd really like to revisit the idea of you taking something at night to help you sleep – even if it's only temporarily."

Olivia's shoulders sagged in defeat, and her head dropped. It was just what she was dreading. The worst part of it was, she didn't have any energy to fight off the suggestion, either. Her reserves were totally depleted.

"I'll tell you what I'm going to do. I'm going to send a prescription to the pharmacy for three pills – enough to get you through until our next video session. I want you to take one each night, and see if your sleep improves any."

There was no point in arguing, Olivia figured. But just because she was agreeing to pick up a prescription didn't mean she had to take the medication. She could always conveniently forget.

"Now that we have that figured out, I want you to tell me about last night."

Panic swept over her yet again, and her heart began to race. How could her doctor have possibly known what had happened? Gasping for her, she clutched the pillow in her lap desperately.

"Who told you?"

"No one had to tell me anything, Olivia. I've known you long enough that I can read the signs. You had a flashback again, didn't you? More night terrors, too, I'm guessing."

Unable to speak, she could only nod as a means of confirmation.

"Do you want to tell me what the flashback was about? Or perhaps what brought it on?"

"It happened when Elliot touched my leg."

Shit. She hadn't meant to say that. Now she'd have to tell Dr. Lindstrom about her former partner's reappearance. When would she learn to just keep her mouth shut? At this rate, she'd never be allowed to go back to work.

"Elliot? As in your old partner? I didn't know he was back in your life."

 _Well, at least he doesn't think I'm hallucinating,_ Olivia thought with a wry grin.

"He showed up unexpectedly yesterday evening. It was the first I'd seen him in three years."

"How did that make you feel?"

Seriously? What the fuck? Did psychiatrists actually get paid a certain dollar amount every time that asked that pointed phrase? _'How does that make you feel?'_ Should she tell him that it initially made her feel like she'd finally lost the last shred of her sanity? Instead, she could only say something that sounded much more trite and rehearsed, but still encapsulated the whole of her feelings.

"Overwhelmed. And relieved."

* * *

The session had continued to go on for another half hour after that, and by the time it had concluded, Olivia was more than talked out. To her surprise, she'd spent a good portion of the session discussing not the nightmares from the night before or her lack of appetite, but her feelings regarding Elliot's abrupt return. Even more shocking, she hadn't held anything back, either. She had let Dr. Lindstrom hear it all – the frustration, the anger, even the desperation she had been feeling to just be held in his arms once again like when he'd first been standing at the door. On top of it all, Olivia had told the doctor of the awkwardness that was currently present, to which he assured her was perfectly normal given three years without seeing one another. He added that not only did she have the factors in her life that she was hesitant to address, but it was likely Elliot did as well. It would take time to bring all those issues to the surface, but from everything she'd told him in the past, he believed the relationship was strong enough to survive any obstacle.

Now, as she was trying to come down from the emotions she'd dealt with in her appointment, Olivia was feeling exhausted. It always seemed to happen this way lately. Therapy drained her in a way that sixteen hours on the job never had. Even the cases that would result in days on end with little to no sleep hadn't had as much of an impact on her as talking with Dr. Lindstrom did. Now, she'd have to make a trip to the pharmacy, because she knew her doctor would be checking in with her later to make sure she picked up the prescription.

Deciding that she wanted to rest before heading downstairs to face Elliot again, Olivia sent him a quick text. It still felt strange to be contacting him again in this way, the first time in ages having been last night when she'd sent him the sign in information for the internet here. She kept the message brief, stating that she was going to take a nap, and not to wait for her if he wanted to have some lunch. However as a means of trying to extend another olive branch, she suggested that when she woke up in a bit, that they take a walk together.

Within seconds, her phone buzzed with confirmation, and Olivia scanned the answering text. Even now, she could almost hear the concern in Elliot's voice as she was reading the written words. He'd told her to take as long as she needed, and not to worry. Although he'd not mentioned anything, she had sinking suspicion he wasn't going to eat anything without her.

After moving her laptop to the dresser, Olivia crossed the room again back to the bed, and lay down. She didn't bother getting under the blankets, merely pulled a light fleece throw from the bottom up and over her body to keep warm. Resting her head on one of the pillows, she reached out and clutched one of the others to her chest, clinging to it as though it were a lifeline. Yet again, she was cursing herself for being so weak and helpless. People kept telling her how strong she was, but she knew they were lying. If she had any real strength at all, she'd be back at work by now instead of hiding out in this town so far from her home. If she really were strong, she'd never have allowed William Lewis to get the drop on her to begin with. No, she was weak – and he'd been the only one to see it. He'd exploited it, and now the whole world knew it to be fact.

Hot tears of shame coursed down Olivia's cheeks as she continued to mentally berate herself. Eventually, the self punishment gave way to her exhaustion, and sleep consumed her. Unlike the night before, her dreams weren't haunted by her recent traumas. They did however feature a starring role by one Elliot Stabler. Their thirteen years together played out in a highlight reel behind her closed eyelids, the memories just as bittersweet as they had been just after he'd first left her three years ago. The only difference was, he was back now.

A little over ninety minutes later, Olivia awoke from her nap. This time, while she didn't have the encompassing nausea that she was used to, there was the ever present body aches from always holding herself so tensely. As much as she hated to admit it, maybe it would be worth giving the sleeping medication a try that Dr. Lindstrom had suggested, if only to put an end to some of the physical discomfort she had been dealing with.

Padding into the bathroom, she washed her face and brushed her teeth for the second time that day. She needed to do something to shake the remnants of sleep from her body. Then, she pulled her hair back into a ponytail to get it off her neck. If she would be going on a walk, she didn't want it getting in her way.

Before leaving the bedroom, Olivia exchanged her leggings for a pair of jeans, but kept on the tee and hooded sweatshirt she had been wearing. As ready now as she would ever be to face Elliot again – especially after discussing him during a therapy session - she opened the door and headed for the stairs.

When she arrived on the lower level, Olivia found Elliot on the couch in the living room, dozing lightly. It took her back to the many times she'd find him resting up in the cribs at the precinct during a hard a case. Even now, more than three years into his retirement, his sleep appeared to be troubled. Despite all of her conflicted emotions regarding his return, seeing that made her heart ache. She had always hoped that after he'd left the force behind, Elliot would have found the peace he deserved.

As though he sensed a presence, Elliot stirred and opened his eyes. Upon seeing Olivia standing a few feet away from him, he smiled. Pulling himself into a sitting position, he stretched his arms overhead and yawned.

"Sorry about that, Liv. Guess you weren't the only one who needed a nap."

"Please, don't apologize for that."

Guilt washed over Olivia. Now she was more certain than ever that her screams the night before had woken him up. At least he had kept his promise and not come to inspect the situation or intervene on her behalf in any way. That would have been more than she could have handled. Because, if he had, he'd have definitely seen the scars that Lewis left behind. While she spent most of her days hidden in clothes that covered everything, she still preferred to sleep at night in tank tops, as sometimes the excess material rubbing against the sensitive skin irritated the injuries.

Shoving her wayward thoughts deep down inside, she instead tried to focus on the here and now. That meant getting outside the cottage – primarily to the pharmacy to the pick up her prescription. While she hated to do that chore with Elliot in tow, she was also equally reluctant to drive there for the first time alone, even though she would have had to if her former partner not shown up on her doorstep the night before.

"So, I was thinking...I need to run to the pharmacy in town real quick, but then I thought maybe we could walk to the beach? I know they are in opposite directions from each other, but the beach would give us a great opportunity to sit and talk, and I really want to check it out."

"That's fine with me, Liv. But after we drive to the pharmacy, why don't we swing by somewhere and pick up some food while we're at it? We can have our lunch on the beach. I have a huge blanket in the back of my truck."

Though she was inwardly cringing at the thought of trying to manage food again – she had barely handled one piece of toast this morning – Olivia felt herself nodding in agreement. It would feel strange being in a vehicle with Elliot again after all these years, but she wasn't frightened at the prospect. No matter how conflicted her feelings were, she did now for certain that she had nothing to fear from him. She never had, and she never would.

Olivia vaguely heard Elliot asking her if she would prefer being the one to drive them, and she was grateful for the offer. She knew he was trying to put the situation in her hands, and she greatly appreciated it. But truth be told, she was still feeling a little out of sorts from her nap earlier, and was more than willing to have him handle things. For the first time in weeks – months, even - Olivia Benson was giving up control to someone else.

The drive didn't take long, as the pharmacy Olivia was using was the same one located inside the local grocery store. They split up in separate directions, Elliot heading to pick up the items he'd forgotten to get for himself that morning. They met back up in the parking lot by his 'truck', which in reality was an SUV similar to what she drove. For some reason, Olivia had found the situation funny, as whenever Elliot had mentioned it, she was envisioning an actual pickup truck.

To find that their tastes were still similar – it turned out his vehicle was a recent purchase as well – did her heart good.

Now that their main task had been completed, it was on to the one that Olivia had been dreading. Elliot was going to ask her what she wanted to eat. Truth be told, she had no appetite at all. When he casually mentioned having seen a sandwich shop in the directory they'd looked through the night before, she agreed. Perhaps her reaction was more on autopilot than anything else, but her self preservation tactics were starting to kick in.

Using his cell phone to help give him directions, Elliot found the place easily. It was called Westside Market, and from the exterior, was somewhat deceiving in appearance. Apparently it was a traditional butcher shop and deli that also sold sandwiches, subs, and burgers for takeout. Upon seeing just how small the storefront was, Olivia's breathing began to quicken. How could she possibly be expected to go in there and not feel trapped? As though he picked up on her distress, Elliot offered a suggestion.

"I know we're miles away from the city, Liv, but I still don't feel right leaving a prescription in the car unattended. What would you say if I ran in there by myself and picked up something for us? It shouldn't take me but a few minutes."

Nodding, Olivia relaxed against the passenger seat once more. She was vaguely aware that he was asking her another question, most likely what she wanted to eat, but couldn't bring herself to form a response. At least she had been able to answer in the negative when he had inquired whether or not she was now a vegetarian before getting out of the vehicle.

Fortunately, they had arrived at an off time, and the place wasn't yet that busy. Ten minutes after he had entered the building, Elliot was back, opening the back door and laying down a paper sack. Then he hopped into the drivers seat, and they were on the road once more. When he asked her if she would mind stopping at the cottage to drop off the supplies he'd bought at the store, Olivia could only counter with the fact that they had decided earlier that they would be walking to the beach anyway.

Once everything was in its rightful place at the cottage, and Elliot had retrieved the blanket and a small cooler bag from the back of his SUV, they were ready to head on their way. Olivia offered to help by carrying something, but Elliot insisted he had everything under control.

As the beach was only a little over a block away, they reached their destination in mere minutes. It was easy enough to find the wooden walkway that led onto the sand from the sidewalk, and once they reached the end of it, they both slipped off their shoes to carry them. Neither had any desire to track sand back to the cottage. As they walked across the beach closer to the water, they observed how quiet it was. They truly would have privacy here today.

When they reached what they figured to be the perfect spot, Elliot set the cooler bag down, and they dropped their shoes. With Olivia's help, they managed to spread out the blanket, using their bare feet to hold it in place. They sat down side by side at an angle, not quite facing each other, but also so they could look out over the waves rolling in.

Though he knew that she had to have a lot on her mind, and likely wanted to talk, Elliot was more focused on trying to get more food in his former partner. He'd not forgotten the detail that she'd let slip the day before about her not having eaten for two days. On top of all that, the pizza they'd had last night had made her ill, and she'd barely been able to finish one piece of toast this morning. He hoped she'd be able to handle what he'd bought her for lunch. Opening the cooler bag, he removed the paper sack containing their sandwiches.

"Here, Liv. It's not much, because I know you haven't been feeling well, but I got you a turkey sandwich. I even had them cut it in half, so you can try eating it in small amounts."

Though he hadn't intended them to, his words inadvertently upset the woman sitting next to him.

"What do you mean by that? Who told you I haven't been feeling well? Just who have you been talking to?"

The questions came out at a staccato pace, each one more panicked than the other. For a minute, Elliot feared that Olivia would get up from her place on the blanket and take off at a run. Holding up his hands with his palms out, he tried to calm her.

"Nothing, Olivia. The only person I talked to recently was Cragen, and all he did was tell me that you were taking some time off from work, and where you'd be staying."

Seeing her relax slightly, he continued.

"The only reason I know you haven't been feeling well is because you were the one who told me you haven't been eating. That and the pizza we had last night at dinner didn't agree with you."

Olivia felt her cheeks flush with shame as she realized that Elliot was right. Here she had been accusing him of something he wasn't even guilty of, when all he was trying to do was help. The least she could do was attempt to take a few bites of the sandwich he had bought for her. He had, after all, remembered that turkey was her favorite.

It had taken a great deal of effort, and Elliot was long since finished with his sub, but after nearly an hour, Olivia had managed to eat half of the turkey sandwich. She'd even stolen one of Elliot's potato chips, craving that crisp, salty taste for the first time in as a long as she could remember. When she had finished, she felt like apologizing for not having eaten more, but all Elliot did was remind her that the rest would be there should she want it later.

With their stomachs now satisfied – or at least Elliot's was, Olivia was still praying her food would stay where it belonged – the two sat in silence. After some time, she finally decided it was time to address one of the many elephants in the room, or in this case, on the beach. Knowing there was no way she could even begin to reveal her secrets until she knew what had made her partner disappear from her life those three years ago, Olivia took a deep breath, and asked the one question she never thought she'd be able to voice.

"El? Where the hell have you been?"


	3. In His Own Words

**Disclaimer: SVU and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. I own nothing.**

* * *

Olivia's words had been so plaintive, that Elliot didn't even think she was aware that she had slipped and called him by the nickname she had once used so often. Truth be told, hearing her say it again was like music to his ears. He'd missed her so desperately during the years of his self imposed exile, and now that the time had come to tell his story, he hoped she would understand.

"Okay, Liv. You deserve the truth. I've owed it to you for awhile now. All I ask is one thing – that you don't interrupt me. Some of this isn't going to be easy for me to tell."

She could only nod her head in confirmation to his request. She felt the words keenly in her heart, and knew that when the time came to tell her own story – if she was ever able to – that she'd be asking the same thing of him. As horrible of a person as it made her feel, she was grateful for small favors – perhaps hearing the tale of whatever Elliot had been through would direct the focus off her own problems long enough that she could forget just how miserable and traumatized she really was.

"I don't have to ask you if you remember that day in the precinct with Jenna. It's one I know neither of us will forget as long as we live. Anyway, after I gave my statement to IAB, I went home – I don't even remember how the hell I got there – I probably shouldn't have been driving, but that's beside the point."

Elliot licked his lips, a sheer sign of nerves, and his eyes were hazy as the memories washed over him. Reaching for a now empty water bottle on the blanket, he grasped it in his fingers, fidgeting with it. Olivia seemed to understand that he needed something to occupy his hands in order to keep from wringing them together.

"I was barely home for five minutes when Kathy started in on me, something or other I had told her I'd fix and hadn't gotten to, because we were so busy working Annette's murder case. All I had wanted to do was take a shower and wash the day away, try and let some of the shock wear off."

Despite all the inner turmoil that she was currently dealing with, Olivia was now battling with another familiar emotion – guilt. How she wished that she had insisted on staying by her partner's side that day, and driven him home. Or, even that she had taken him back to her apartment, if only for a few hours. But Cragen had told her to 'let him go', and she'd obeyed the Captain's instructions, believing that what Elliot needed most at that moment was space. How could she have been so wrong?

"Anyway, that night, I picked up a bottle, and didn't put one down again for quite some time. I didn't answer the phone, I barely ate, I rarely showered. When I would sleep, it would be for a few fitful hours on the couch in the early hours of the morning. Eventually, Kathy had reached her limit, and she gave me an ultimatum – either get help, or get out."

Olivia was suddenly hit with another wave of emotion, this one being anger at Elliot's wife. How could Kathy not have seen how much her husband was suffering? He had been in need of support and understanding! While maybe in her own way she had been trying to provide 'tough love', that certainly hadn't been the way to go about things. Yes, her priorities would have been to protect Eli and the other children, but Olivia knew instinctively that the only person Elliot would have been a danger to then was himself.

"I was helpless to do anything but agree with her, so I packed my things, and found a hole in the wall studio apartment in the city. That was when I mailed you the badge and medal, Liv. I knew I couldn't ever go back, but I wanted you to have something to remember me by. I was ashamed of the man I had become. Those thirteen years by your side were the best in my life, and you were the only one worthy of those items. I certainly wasn't."

She wanted to argue with him, but remembered her earlier promise, and kept her mouth shut. Still, his words brought a fresh wave of pain to her for a whole new set of reasons – he had entrusted her with that badge, and she no longer had it. As the reality of that fact washed over her anew, it made her want to weep. Even so, she was grateful that she had brought the Semper Fi medallion to Cape May with her. Maybe one day, she'd even be able to wear it around her neck again.

"I know I can never apologize to you enough for the way I left, but you have to believe me Olivia, I _am_ sorry. In my mindset at the time, I honestly believed I was doing right by you in letting you go. When I was sober long enough, that is. When I was drunk – which was more often than not – all I could think was that I could never subject you to seeing me that way, not after what your mother put you through. I wouldn't be another person in your life to just disappoint you. I guess I did anyway, didn't I?"

No matter how much she had promised to keep silent, Olivia couldn't hold her tongue any longer. She had to tell Elliot something here and now. What he was talking about may be in the past, but that didn't matter – for them, it was their present.

"Elliot, I never wanted you to feel that way. You could have come to me with anything, and I wouldn't have judged you or looked at you any different. Would it have upset me to see you like that? Yes. But I would have welcomed you into my home with open arms and done whatever you needed."

He gave her a sad smile, grateful for her words, but there was so much more he had to tell her. He wasn't so sure she'd be as gracious by the time he was finished.

"It was another few months after that before I got my act together. In fact, it wasn't until I got a notice from Kathy saying that she had amended the divorce papers and filed for sole custody of Eli that I had any desire to sober up. By then, I was too late. I had already lost everything."

Elliot took a moment to reach into the cooler bag and grab another bottle of water. By now, his mouth was dry from all the talking, and he needed a drink. Aside from her one reassurance, Olivia had held true to her word and hadn't spoken. For that, he was grateful. Now, he was getting to the hard part – he was going to have to reveal a secret that someone else had known where he had been all this time. He feared this would cause irreparable damage to one of Olivia's most cherished relationships, and he dreaded continuing with the story.

"As I was saying, I had hit rock bottom. I knew if I continued down the path I was on, I wouldn't be alive much longer. I was either going to drink myself to death, or do something I wouldn't be able to take back. So, I called Cragen. I almost lost my nerve once I heard his voice on the phone, but he figured me out before I could say a word. He demanded to know where I was, and even threatened to run a trace on the line in order to find me if I didn't tell him myself."

Olivia was surprised by the revelation, but not altogether shocked. Being a recovering alcoholic himself, it was understandable that their former Captain would have been sympathetic to what Elliot had been going through. She could even make sense of the fact as to why Elliot had called Cragen and not her. But that still didn't explain three years worth of him missing from her life. Shifting on the blanket, she made herself more comfortable. There was a lot more that she needed to hear yet.

* * *

Elliot had concluded that chapter of his story by explaining that Cragen had gotten him involved with an AA program, and went to meetings with him on a daily basis until he was comfortable with going on his own. The man had also offered to be his sponsor, making himself available at any time day or night should Elliot feel himself slipping into old habits. Elliot had been faithful to his promises, and his recovery, committed to becoming sober. He had just been ready to undertake the ninth step – making amends to those he had hurt – when a phone call from out of the blue had altered the course of his life entirely.

Temporarily distracted from his trip down memory lane, Elliot stopped abruptly in his relation of his story to ask Olivia a question. There was no mistaking the anxiety in the tone of his voice.

"Do you remember Agent Kalke?"

"From the Bushido case? Elliot, are you trying to tell me that he -"

Elliot held up his hand, an attempt to calm Olivia as she visibly became more panicked at the mere thought of Andre Bushido. He knew exactly what thoughts were running through her mind at that very moment, because they were in his, too. The night she had come to find him when he'd been working undercover and had posed as a prostitute in an effort to save both of their lives. He'd ultimately taken two bullets later that same night, but it hadn't been her fault. The man he had been dealing with – Andre Bushido – was as violent as they came, and he'd been fortunate to escape with his life. As it had turned out, the man they had arrested alongside Bushido – Victor Tybor – had in fact been an undercover cop who was trying to bring down the entire smuggling operation. That had been a case that had stayed with Elliot for quite some time, not to mention the lingering threat that Bushido had thrown at him when he'd made the arrest.

"She was calling to tell me that an attempt had been made on Tybor's life while he and Bushido were in prison together. They didn't have exact proof, but were convinced that Bushido was the one responsible. They'd led the other prisoners to believe that Tybor was dead, and launched an investigation."

By now, Olivia's heart rate was starting to escalate – for several reasons. She'd known about the threat Bushido had leveled against her partner, she'd also known what the man was capable of. He'd never been able to show mercy to a colleague, just what would he do to someone who had crossed him?

"The other reason she called was that it was apparent that myself and my family were another potential target. With Tybor 'gone', that meant that Bushido would be getting himself another contact, presumably one on the outside. He's not a man who forgives easily, and it was likely he'd be coming after me."

"But they only knew you as Mike Kanicki."

Again, Olivia couldn't resist piping up. Maybe she could attribute that to her nerves, but there was something else nagging at her now, something she didn't want to even consider. Burying it deep within herself for the time being, she focused all of her attention on Elliot.

"It doesn't matter, Liv. Bushido's got connections. Hell, he probably knew who I really was by the time he was behind bars. The only reason I know he didn't make me as a cop from the get go is because I'm still breathing. He'd have likely killed me on sight if he had known. That's why I was so terrified for you that night – I was scared as hell one of them would find your badge."

"I was more worried about protecting you. Fat lot of good it did me, I still got you shot."

Elliot wanted to touch her and offer her comfort in that moment, she looked so miserable. But he remembered the way she had reacted the night before, and instead held his hand out in her direction, allowing her to choose to initiate the contact, just as she had with their initial hug when he'd first arrived. To his relief, Olivia placed her palm in his and held on tight.

"You didn't pull that trigger, he did. Besides, you were still there to save me."

Shaking the memories from her mind, Olivia tried again to focus on the present. She concentrated on the feel of Elliot's hand in her own, the warmth and strength she could draw from it. At a moment when she had started to feel her sanity slipping away again, it was something to ground her.

"So, Bushido was after you. What then? You got back together with Kathy and your whole family went into witness protection?"

Elliot offered her a grim smile and a shrug of his shoulders.

"That was the hard part. There was no concrete proof. Plus there was nothing that Bushido had done that I could testify against him for, he was already in prison. But Agent Kalke did suggest that I temporarily sever all contacts and move away. For my family's safety, it was best that they move, too."

Now, it seemed to be Elliot's turn to grow increasingly emotional. He swiped at his eyes, as though trying to prevent tears from falling. Once again, Olivia's heart broke for him, and she wished that she would have been able to help him in some way during all this. But any anger she may have felt had been rapidly fading since he had started telling his story.

"When I told Kathy the news, her first reaction was anger – not that I could blame her. But then, she started to blame me. She agreed to move, but only with the stipulation that I not be anywhere near them. I would be allowed to have video chats with the kids, but that was it. After the danger was over, it would be up to the older ones to decide on their own whether they wanted to see me, but she would be keeping sole custody of Eli."

Olivia squeezed his hand again. She knew how much it had to have broken his heart to be separated from his children. Once again, she was cursing Kathy for keeping Elliot apart from his youngest son, who probably hadn't even understood his father's absence in his life. At least the other Stabler children were all old enough to make their own choices.

"Kathy took the kids and moved to Florida. Maureen and Kathleen were able to transfer to all online courses, so they could finish their degrees at their respective schools. The twins just enrolled in a university near their new home."

Elliot took another breath. He was getting closer to the end of his story, but not quite there yet. There was a little bit more he needed to tell.

"It destroyed me inside to not be close to my family, but I couldn't risk so much as being in the same state as them. I almost left the country, too – trying to put their safety above all else – when I remembered an old friend of mine from the Marines."

Elliot went on to explain that he had known Paul Samuels since their first day of boot camp, when they had been not only bunkmates, but became fast friends as well. Even when they had left the service after their four year stint, they had tried to keep in touch. Since Paul lived in Sacramento, California, Elliot figured it would be a safe place he could go and at least know someone. When he'd called his friend, the man had not only offered him a place to stay, but a job as well.

Paul had done very well for himself over the years, and was the manager of a successful home contracting business. His own house was quite expansive, and there was even a guest house on his property – which is where he had suggested Elliot stay. Elliot was grateful for a place to live, and while he didn't know much about contracting, he knew he could handle manual labor.

"So that's where I've been living the past two years. I only used my computer once a week, and that was to talk to my kids. I know the internet was literally at my fingertips, but it would have been too painful to look up anything about you when I couldn't actually talk to you."

A stray tear escaped and made its way down Olivia's cheek. He had been through so much since she'd seen him last, and she had spent the better part of that time cursing him daily, believing that he didn't care about her. She had been so wrong. But now, she was filled with even more worry. Was it safe for him to be here? She had no concern for her own welfare, but simply couldn't bear it if something happened to Elliot because of her.

"But Elliot, you should have stayed away! If it's not safe for you to be here -"

Still hesitant to touch her, he held up a palm in an effort to calm her rising panic.

"I was just getting to that part, Liv. I got a phone call a month ago from Agent Kalke. They had found the evidence they needed not only against Bushido, but against the other members of the smuggling ring as well. Not only will they all be behind bars for the rest of their lives, but all of them were moved to solitary."

While Olivia thought that was appropriate, she was now worried that Elliot might be having trouble coming to terms with that arrangement. She remembered the time when they had dealt with the case of Callum Donavan. The man had attacked Elliot, pushing him off a roof – then blamed his behavior on his experiences in solitary confinement. In an effort to better understand where Callum was coming from, her partner had locked himself in a prison cell for three days, and come away with a new perception of just what it was like for the criminals they incarcerated.

"I know what you're thinking Liv, and while my mind may have been changed somewhat during that case, I think in this instance, the punishment fits the crime. It couldn't have happened to a more deserving guy."

The breeze was really coming off the ocean now, but this was the first time Olivia had taken notice of it. She had been so wrapped up in Elliot's story, that she was unaware of just how much time had passed, or how long they had been sitting here. And yet, she found a sense of peace in that, because for the first time in a long while, she had been allowed an escape from being inside her own head. Now that Elliot had been so candid with her, she knew that she owed him the truth, too, but she just wasn't sure she could do it today. Between therapy this morning, and absorbing all of his information this afternoon, it was just too much.

"I have a bit more to tell you, Liv. Then we can go back to the cottage. This last part won't take long. But if you're cold, we can go back now."

Olivia shook her head, indicating that she was fine. She was still having trouble bringing herself to say the words to him, though. Maybe it was because she realized he'd see through her lie. He always could.

"After I got the all clear, I knew I wanted to come back home. The first thing I did was call Kathy and the kids. They were all settled and happy in Florida, living near Clearwater Beach. I had figured that Kathy wouldn't want to leave and go back to New York, but the fact that the kids all wanted to stay as well really surprised me."

Elliot continued on a bit further, detailing about his cross country drive. He'd made the forty-two hour trip in a little over five days, stopping at motels along the way each night to get adequate rest. When he'd arrived in Clearwater Beach, Maureen and Kathleen let him stay at their apartment, which they'd begun renting together not long after their arrival. The twins came over to visit his first night, and it was a happy reunion between a father and his children. All that had been left was to see Eli.

When he'd stopped in on his ex wife and youngest son the following day, there was an unexpected surprise waiting for him. Not only had Kathy married again, but Eli was now calling his new stepfather "Dad", seemingly at his mother's insistence. When he saw Elliot, the first things he'd asked was 'Why didn't you love me anymore, Daddy? Why did you leave me?' Equally brokenhearted and angry, Elliot had turned to Kathy, demanding an explanation. He also informed her he would be doing whatever was necessary to get joint custody back now that the danger had passed.

"So, I spent a few weeks down in Florida with the kids. Then, when I got back to New York, I called Cragen. I wanted to check in with him, and was surprised when he told me that he'd retired. The first thing I asked about was you, and he told me that you were here in Cape May, taking an extended leave. You know the rest as to how I ended up here."

"But Elliot, you left your family – your children – for me? Why didn't you just stay in Florida with them? You could have settled down there and been happy."

Dodging her question for the time being, Elliot shook his head. He needed to get her back to the cottage. It was obvious that their conversation had taken its toll on her, in addition to whatever it was that she was already dealing with. He'd likely already piled more on her than she could handle as it was, but once the words had started tumbling out, it was like he had been set free from a weight that had held him prisoner for these past three years. Things may still not be perfect between them, but for the first time in forever, it felt like he was getting his best friend back.

* * *

Back at the cottage, Olivia was feeling more weary than she had anticipated from her afternoon out. She did know one thing for certain though – no matter how exhausted she felt, she did not want to take a second nap today.

As though sensing she needed space, Elliot didn't push Olivia any. Instead, he put the remaining bottles of water away in the fridge, along with the half sandwich that she hadn't eaten. Turning around, he saw her standing by the couch in the living room, looking at a loss for words. Attempting to put her more at ease, he made an offer.

"Liv, you mentioned last night that you brought your devices with you so you could connect to your streaming services. If you get the one you want to have down here, I'll help you hook it up, if you'd like."

Recognizing Elliot's attempt for what it was, Olivia tried her best to smile, even if she wasn't very successful. She was still overcome with emotion trying to process everything that he'd told her. Not just the fact that her former partner was now a recovering alcoholic, but that he'd quite literally had to abandon the only life he had ever known for his own safety. No wonder he hadn't been in touch with her for three years. But how could she tell him her own story now? How would she even begin to cope if the resulting guilt from learning about what had happened to her drove him back to the bottle? What was she going to do?

"Liv? Olivia?"

Olivia startled abruptly at the sound of her name being called, only to realize that it was just Elliot. Berating herself for her jumpiness, she focused her attention on him.

"I was just asking if you wanted me to make you a cup of tea while you were upstairs."

Managing a nod of confirmation, she headed toward the stairway, but not without first picking up the bag from the counter that contained her prescription. She was grateful that Elliot had never questioned her about it, because she wasn't sure how she would have explained. For all he knew, it could be something as benign as eye drops.

Once she was safe in her room, Olivia set the medicine bottle on the nightstand with the other two, making sure to touch it as little as possible. She still wasn't sure if she actually wanted to try taking it tonight, but then again, she had promised Dr. Lindstrom when this all began that she would cooperate. The worst that could happen was that it would be of no benefit. He'd only given her three pills to start with, and said that he could add to it when they talked at their next session. His decision would be based upon two things – her sleep and her comfort level.

Pushing those thoughts aside for now, she went into the bathroom to wash her face. Olivia couldn't help but laugh at the thought that as much as she showered these days – as well as washed her hands and face – her skin should be rubbed raw by now. But there were no outward signs that she could notice that her newfound compulsion had any adverse effect.

Back out in the room, she stripped off the belt she had been wearing, relieved to be rid of it. While once a part of her daily attire, now she found the accessory confining, but completely necessary. Ever since her first ordeal with Lewis, and now the second, she had lost so much weight that none of her clothes fit properly. She simply hadn't had the interest in buying new ones. Switching back to the leggings she'd had on this morning, Olivia searched her trunk for the streaming boxes she had brought along, along with the remotes. After setting both boxes and remotes on the chest of drawers momentarily, she went back to the bed. Grabbing the fleece throw from where she had left it earlier, she flung it over one shoulder, not realizing that the one pill bottle containing her sleeping medication had been knocked to the floor in the process. Picking up the one streaming box, she headed out of the room and downstairs to the kitchen.

"Hey, Liv. Your phone went off while you were upstairs. It didn't ring or anything, so I think it was just an incoming text. Don't worry – I didn't look."

It seemed strange to Olivia that Elliot had to assure her of such a thing, when in another life, he would have simply taken the message for her. They had been so in sync in those days, and there wasn't anything they hadn't shared – from theories on a suspect to whatever they were having for lunch. Never in a million years would she have believed this is where they would be now, walking on eggshells around each other. But he was here, and that still meant the world to her, so that had to count for something. As far as getting back on track with each other, well, she had at least six months in this place to figure that out.

Elliot met her on the opposite side of the counter, just as she was reading a text message from Fin. Her friend was only making sure that she was settling in okay, and giving her his word yet again that he'd take care of everything back in New York. Though still a detective himself, she knew that Fin would never let anyone try and strong arm her out of a job. Her office as Sergeant would be waiting for her upon her return – if they ever allowed to.

Accepting the mug of tea from Elliot's outstretched hand, Olivia exchanged it for the streaming box and HDMI cable she held in hers. Then she followed him into the living room and settled herself on the couch while she watched him go to work by the TV set with the simple setup of the device.

Tucking one of the throw pillows behind her back, Olivia arranged the blanket over her legs, leaving them stretched out. Even though this couch was the lone piece of furniture to sit on in the living room, it was quite spacious. Elliot would be able to join her again without either of them feeling crowded, although they had managed to sit side by side on the blanket today at the beach without issue. Still, it felt good to be able to relax.

Taking a few lengthy sips of tea, she set the mug down on the coffee table and snuggled further against the pillow. Despite her promise to herself not long ago that she wouldn't nap again today, Olivia found herself growing drowsy. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to close her eyes for just a few minutes. But she couldn't bear the thought of climbing those stairs again. She was simply too exhausted.

"Liv? I don't want you to take this the wrong way, but please tell me you remembered to pack the remote for this."

With a groan of frustration, Olivia threw her head back against the cushion behind her. The remote – she'd left it upstairs. Doing a brief mental inventory to make certain nothing incriminating or embarrassing was sitting out on full display, she seriously considered sending Elliot up to her room to get it. The only thing he could really find would be her medications, and even if he did snoop further – he was still Elliot Stabler after all – the only thing that would result in was prompting a conversation. She knew he would respect her wishes in delaying that as long as necessary. Anything would be better at this point than climbing those stairs herself.

"Yes, Elliot. I have the remotes. I just left both of them on the chest of drawers in my room. If you wouldn't mind getting the one? It's labeled 'LR' with a piece of tape on the front. My door is open."

Elliot double checked that she was sure she wouldn't mind him being in her personal space, then promised he would be back with the remote soon. First things first, he wanted to change into something more comfortable himself. As he observed Olivia getting more settled on the couch, Elliot couldn't help but wonder if he'd find her asleep when he got back.

* * *

It didn't take him that long to change, though Elliot was still amazed by the fact that he could fit the whole of his life into a rucksack, a large suitcase, and a duffel bag. Granted, he still had the storage unit back in New York, but he had no need for any of the things there just yet – he wondered if he ever would again.

After stopping in the bathroom, he padded across the hall to where Olivia's bedroom was. This was going to be his first time actually setting foot inside it, even though he'd stood outside her door the night before. Spying the remote lying where she'd said it would be, he walked over to retrieve it. He'd had it in his hand and was turning around to head out when something on the floor caught his eye.

It was a prescription bottle, bearing the name of the pharmacy they had visited today. This must have been why Olivia had needed to go to store. But something was wrong – for only having just been filled, it was incredibly light, not even a full bottle.

Hating himself for snooping further, and invading her privacy, Elliot turned the bottle in his fingers to scan the label. When his eyes fell across the name zolpidem tartrate, his heart began to race. Sleeping pills? He tilted the amber container, shaking it, counting only three tablets remaining. Images played in his mind of how drowsy Olivia had been before he'd come upstairs. What the hell had she done?

Shoving the pill bottle into his pocket, Elliot cursed mightily as he realized his phone was sitting downstairs on the coffee table. He needed to get to Olivia – and fast. There might still be time to wake her up, keep her talking. Then he could call 911 and get her help.

He'd made it down the stairs so fast, he wasn't even sure he'd taken the time to use all the steps properly. That didn't matter right now. All that mattered was Olivia. Shoving the coffee table away from the couch, not caring in the slightest at the tea that sloshed out of her mug and onto the surface, Elliot sat by her hip. Without even thinking logically, he grabbed Olivia by the biceps, pulling her into a sitting position, shaking her slightly. His voice was laced with panic.

"Liv! Wake up, Liv! Talk to me! Tell me, how many did you take? How many did you take?"

Startled out of her sleep, all Olivia could comprehend was that someone was invading her personal space. That and two hands had a firm grip on her upper arms. She was propelled back in time once more, and squeezed her eyes shut tight to avoid looking at whomever was with her. There were fingers on her lips now, trying to force them open. It had to be Lewis – he was going to make her take more pills – only to chase them down with vodka. She wouldn't do it. It didn't matter if he killed her. Olivia kept her eyes closed, playing possum, and waited until the two fingers were just inside her mouth. Then she bit down as hard as she possibly could.

Elliot bit back a curse as he pulled his hand back reflexively, checking for blood. Her teeth had broken the skin somewhat, but the wound wasn't bad. He'd been trying to sweep Olivia's mouth with his fingers, in an attempt to induce vomiting to bring up the pills she'd taken, and she had bitten him! But wait a minute – she was talking again – and while not completely lucid, she didn't sound like she was drugged, either. Just what was going on?

"I changed my mind Lewis. I _won't_ do anything it takes. Just kill me."

Elliot felt the same feeling return as he'd had the night before when he'd watched her have the flashback. In addition to being terrified, he was sick to his stomach. Just who in the hell was this Lewis, and what had the man done to her? Realizing that he wasn't going to get any answers out of Olivia right now, he went back to the prescription bottle. It couldn't have been very long since she'd taken the pills, so the window hadn't closed yet. The damage could still be reversible. He just needed to be able to tell the medics how many she'd taken.

Looking at the label once more, he studied it for a quantity amount, so he could do the math with the remainder of pills left in the bottle. When he saw the number glaring up at him, Elliot felt like a complete idiot. Three. There had only been three pills in the prescription. She hadn't even taken any yet. She hadn't overdosed. Not only had he jumped to conclusions and made a complete ass out of himself, but he had triggered yet another flashback episode for Olivia, sending her headfirst into an untold hell.

Immediately releasing his grasp on her, Elliot moved away, though it destroyed him to do so. But he knew what Olivia needed most in this moment was space, and not him hovering. She had slipped into somewhat of a catatonic state at this point, and was staring straight ahead unblinking. It was like she wasn't registering his presence in the slightest.

A phone rang then, and Elliot found himself cursing the interruption. That was when he realized the sound was coming from his cell, and not Olivia's. Taking a cautious step toward the coffee table, he glanced at the display. When he saw who was calling, he answered immediately.

"Don."

"Hello, Elliot. I had promised myself I would give you two some time, but I just had to know how things were going there. Have you seen Olivia?"

Though he knew none of this was his former Captain's fault, Elliot couldn't help but feel frustration toward his onetime mentor. Now that the same man was now his sponsor, there was a different relationship between them – a shared connection. Deep down, he understood that whatever had happened to Olivia hadn't been Don's story to tell. As it was, he had likely been testing the boundaries by revealing her location. Still, Elliot was at a loss with how to proceed.

"If you're asking if she's punched me yet, Don, then the answer is no. But things haven't exactly been what I would call easy between us."

Don chuckle trickled over the line, and Elliot could picture the man shaking his head, much the same way he always had when he and Olivia had been partners. They'd always worked beautifully together, but could often push each others buttons like no other, and typically drove everyone else around them crazy when that happened.

"Have you told her about the last three years?"

"We had that talk this afternoon, actually."

"I see."

Now, Elliot could hear the hint of admonition in Don's voice. This time, it wasn't coming from a Captain scolding one of his Detectives, but rather a sponsor concerned for a fellow recovering alcoholic. Before he could say another word, Elliot tried to explain.

"It wasn't that I didn't want to tell her sooner, Don. It was just that, well, some things happened last night and today that I wasn't expecting."

Now, Cragen's voice was laced with regret and worry. Because he knew something that Elliot did not, his fear was that Olivia may have pushed herself too far too soon. He knew deep in his heart that Elliot would never intentionally hurt her, no matter what had happened in the past. But both still had so much healing that needed to happen on individual levels, as well as between them, before they could take things any further.

"Oh, Elliot. Don't tell me that the two of you -"

"What? No! I can assure you, no! I'd never have allowed that to happen, especially once I saw how vulnerable she was. I know you can't tell me the details, Don, but _something_ happened to her, didn't it?"

The only thing that Elliot heard next was a pained whisper of confirmation in his ear. Even though he had already intuited it for himself, having the knowledge be concrete destroyed him inside. There was one another thing he had to ask, although he suspected he knew the answer to the next question, too.

"I'm going to need a meeting when she finally tells me the truth, aren't I?"

"Yes. Also, you're going to need to remember that you can call me at any time – day or night."

Feeling a sharp pain in his chest, Elliot tried to resist the urge to sink to his knees. This wasn't about him. He couldn't make it about him. He would have to dig deep and be strong for Olivia, and use whatever resources were at his disposal to help him do that.

"It's bad, isn't it, Don?"

"The Olivia you know and love is still there, Elliot. Just remember that."

* * *

Elliot's conversation with Don continued a few minutes longer. By the time he hung up, he was filled with a deep sense of foreboding. Olivia had a story of her own to tell, and it was one that could break them both. His own saga had been hard enough to share, but instinct told him that whatever she had lived through paled in comparison.

Looking up, he saw that Olivia was watching him with a guarded expression. Her face was flushed with shame, and he could tell that she wanted to crawl inside herself right now and hide from the world. It was the same embarrassment that had taken over her features the night before. The fact that he was responsible for putting it there – again – hurt him even more.

"Liv."

"Don't say anything, Elliot, please. I'm humiliated enough as it is."

Daring to step closer, he was determined to explain.

"It's not that, Olivia. I owe you an apology. I jumped to a horrible conclusion, and I should have trusted you better."

"What do you mean?"

Taking her confused question as permission to step a bit closer, Elliot picked up the prescription bottle from the coffee table and extended it in her direction. Olivia accepted it, but he noticed she made every effort not to touch him in the process. As recognition registered, anger began to take hold.

"You went through my things? How could you?"

"Liv, I went into your room to get the remote – that's all. As I was leaving, I found the prescription bottle on the floor. I swear all I planned to do was pick it back up again and set it on your nightstand, but then I saw there were so few pills in it. When I noticed exactly what it was, I panicked."

Quiet reigned in the room for several minutes as Olivia absorbed just what Elliot was telling her. His explanation seemed innocent enough. If she thought about it, she could even almost remember hearing a small noise just as she had been grabbing the blanket that could have meant something had fallen. She'd just been so weary that all she'd wanted to do was get downstairs and rest. Her next words were very softly spoken, but Elliot heard her just the same.

"You thought I'd OD'd on purpose, didn't you? Tried to kill myself? I guess I should be grateful that you were trying to wake me up on your own first before calling for help. That would be the last thing I'd need right now is to be reported for a possible suicide attempt."

Something in the way she had said the words chilled Elliot to the bone. But he knew better than to question her further on it right now, so instead he focused on his apology.

"For what it's worth, Liv, I am sorry. I never meant to upset you."

"Elliot, just because you're retired now doesn't mean you've stopped thinking like a cop. If our positions had been reversed, I likely would have come to the same conclusion you did. I can't be mad at you for being concerned about my safety."

He must have looked confused by her admission, because Olivia went on to elaborate further.

"I told you yesterday, being angry with you requires an energy I don't have right now. There likely will come a time when I'll unload all my frustrations, but it isn't going to happen today. Especially not after everything you told me on the beach."

Elliot was relieved, but he still knew the conversation was far from over. There was so much more he wanted to know. But he wouldn't push her.

"May I sit with you?"

"As long as you understand I'm all talked out for now, yes."

Elliot nodded his confirmation and took another step closer to the couch, but not sitting down just yet. Instead he gestured to her mug of spilled tea.

"How about I make you another tea, to make up for spilling this one?"

"That sounds great, thanks."

Taking the mug with him into the kitchen, Elliot put on the kettle. Then he returned briefly to clean up the mess on the coffee table. Making sure there was no more tea left behind, he folded up the cloth he'd been using and left again. Olivia had been quiet as she'd watched him, but her eyes had been soft. He'd had a feeling she was going to say something when the whistling of the tea kettle had sounded, breaking the mood.

A few minutes later, Elliot was back again, bringing a fresh mug of hot tea for Olivia and a bottle of water for himself. After getting situated on the opposite end of couch, he got comfortable and then reached for the remotes.

"Did you have anything in mind you wanted to watch?"

"You can put on whatever you want. My focus hasn't been the greatest lately, so I doubt I'd even be able to follow along or even remember the plot of any TV show or movie at this point. I mainly keep things on just for background noise now."

The more things about Olivia that Elliot observed – the flashbacks, the night terrors, the lack of appetite, even the guarded way she held herself - were all clear signs that told him his partner had been through an extremely traumatic ordeal. With every passing moment in her presence, his concern for her only escalated. How he wished he could erase the missing years between them so she would trust him again. He may not be able to take away all of her pain, but he would do whatever it took to help her bear it.

Ruefully, Elliot realized that even if he had been there for Olivia all this time, she still may not have let him in. He remembered a time in the past when she had gone undercover in a woman's prison, much to his dismay. They'd suspected one of the CO's had been guilty of raping the daughter of an inmate, and was also sexually assaulting the prisoners under his charge. Lowell Harris, the man responsible for the crimes, had cornered Olivia in the basement of the prison, and attempted to force her to perform oral sex on him. He'd likely have killed her, too, had Fin not come in when he had. It had taken months before his partner had been able to confide in him what had happened. She'd always just insisted that she was 'fine' – even though he had clearly been able to see that she wasn't.

The lack of trust had hurt, but Elliot had known it had been his own fault. During one of their worst cases together as partners, he'd been forced to choose between Olivia and a child. Believing his partner to be mortally wounded, he'd run to her side, and an innocent had died. As a result, he'd fought with her later in the squad room about it, laying the blame on her shoulders that he hadn't been ready to carry on his own. To this day, he still hasn't been able to forget the look on Olivia's face when he'd shouted at her that he couldn't always be coming to her rescue.

From that moment on, the relationship between them had been strained. They had eventually gotten back on track, but Olivia had always been determined to prove her worth to him – sometimes at the risk of putting herself in more danger. On the few occasions she would be hurt, be it physically or emotionally, she would mask her pain, hiding it from not only the world, but him as well.

In Elliot's eyes, that was exactly what Olivia was doing now. Her face was the epitome of the perfect mask – a facade designed to trick anyone and everyone who saw her into thinking that she was just fine. But he hadn't known her all these years for nothing. He'd also been through his own personal hell, so he knew the signs as effectively as if he were looking in a mirror. She might be convincing herself that she was 'fine' for now – but one day, and one day soon, Olivia was going to break. He just had to be sure that he was there to catch her when she fell.

* * *

After making it through one movie – he had deliberately chosen a comedy to keep the mood light – Elliot glanced over to his side to observe Olivia. She was still awake, but just as she'd predicted earlier, clearly not paying attention. Her knees were drawn into her chest again, and she was absentmindedly picking at a piece of lint on the fleece blanket that was thrown over her legs. He did find a small bit of comfort in seeing that she'd been able to drink the entire mug of tea that he'd made for her earlier.

As much as Elliot hated to broach the subject, it was getting to be early evening, and he needed to start thinking about making dinner. He knew that the mere mention of food would bring up an argument from Olivia, but he was hoping to encourage her to at least try and eat something. All she'd had today was the piece of toast at breakfast, and the half sandwich when they were on the beach – plus the lone potato chip she had stolen. That total didn't even amount to an entire meal's worth of food, let alone enough for an entire day.

In an effort to keep the peace between them, while also taking into consideration her tender stomach, he did a mental inventory of some of the groceries he had purchased during his first trip to the store this morning. While normally it was a dish that would taste better if it were cooked all day, he could make Wedding soup.

One of his fondest childhood memories, it was a favorite recipe that his mother would make – when she had been feeling well enough to cook. A simple soup made with chicken broth, spinach, tiny meatballs, and acini de pepe pasta, it was topped with freshly grated parmesan cheese.

It wouldn't be the traditional recipe that he would be following tonight, though, as he'd be taking a few shortcuts. He'd bought frozen spinach instead of fresh, and even purchased prepared miniature meatballs in lieu of making his own. His mother would likely admonish him for it, but desperate times called for desperate measures. The important thing here was that he got Olivia to eat.

"Liv? I'm going to head into the kitchen and get started on dinner."

To his surprise, she actually acknowledged him, blinking once before turning her head in his direction. Then his hopes sank again with her words.

"Make something for yourself if you like, El, by all means. But I'm not hungry."

What would she have done had he not arrived last night, Elliot wondered. Would she have stayed here in Cape May, a few hours away from everyone she knew and loved, and quietly wasted away? Granted, she had only just arrived yesterday, but the sheer thought of her living here for an extended period of time on her own without someone looking in on her terrified him.

"I'm making dinner for both of us, Liv. I can promise you, it's not going to be anything major – just some soup. If for some reason you don't like what's in it, then you can just have a few sips of the broth. But you need to get _something_ nourishing in you."

Olivia was defeated. She didn't want to eat – the toast this morning and the half sandwich earlier had taken all of her willpower to choke down. But she didn't want to fight with Elliot, either. She needed that energy for other things, and it couldn't be wasted on petty squabbles over food. Plus, in all the years that she'd known him, she'd never been aware that her former partner could cook. It would be interesting to see what he would come up with.

"Okay, I'll try some. After all, it's not everyday that Elliot Stabler cooks for me."

Smiling now, Elliot got up from the couch. After a brief search of the cabinets, he found a three quart enamelware cooking pot that he could use. He didn't plan on making a big batch of soup, after all, it was just the two of them eating. If Olivia liked it and wanted more, he'd gladly go to the store again tomorrow to buy the ingredients.

After taking what he needed out of the refrigerator, Elliot set himself up a small station on the counter by the stove. Though they weren't traditionally included in wedding soup, his mother had always added carrot and celery, so he was, too. Plus he figured the inclusion of vegetables would provide some extra nutrition for Olivia. Drizzling the tiniest amount of olive oil in the bottom of the now hot pot, he added the onions he'd chopped and allowed them to saute. The carrots and celery were next.

Once the vegetables were soft, he poured in the broth. There wasn't much to do at this point except wait for the liquid to come to a boil, so while he was waiting, he moved on to another task. In reality, Elliot knew that soup alone wouldn't be enough of a meal to satisfy him for dinner. But there was still some leftover pizza from the night before in the fridge, and he could always have some of that later – provided the smell of it wouldn't make Olivia feel ill. If not, he could always eat it cold or wait until she went to bed.

Drawing his focus back to the stove, Elliot noticed that the broth had reached a boil. Knowing that the meatballs would take the longest to cook, he added them first. Next, he added the pasta, and finally the spinach, which he'd thawed in the fridge all day in preparation for tonight. Now it would only be a few more minutes until dinner was ready.

"Liv? Dinner's almost done. Did you want to eat at the table tonight, or in the living room?"

With a laugh that sounded forced, Olivia answered him.

"I think I'd better come to the table. You did make soup, and my goal is to try and eat it, not wear it."

"That seems fair. Do you want anything to drink?"

Olivia replied that water would be fine. While Elliot waited for the soup to finish coming together, he worked on a few final touches for their meal. First, he sliced a fresh baguette that he'd bought at the store's bakery that morning, arranging the pieces of bread in a basket that he'd found. Then, he brought that to the table along with a wedge of parmesan cheese and handheld rotary grater so that they could top off their bowls.

After ladling the soup out, he carried them over to the table, where Olivia was already waiting for him. She was eyeing the bread warily, almost as though she expected him to force the entire loaf upon her plate. On his last trip, Elliot returned with butter for the bread, and two bottles of water.

"No pressure, Olivia. I just want you to eat as much as you can. I purposely didn't fill your bowl up so you wouldn't feel overwhelmed."

"Thank you."

* * *

Elliot was quite pleased with how dinner had gone. Not necessarily in terms of how much Olivia had eaten – she'd only finished half of the soup in her bowl and half a slice of bread before she was pushing it away – but in terms of their conversation. Now that she knew the truth, she felt comfortable asking him questions about his kids. It was, quite honestly, the most animated he'd seen her since he had arrived.

When they were done, it was an even more worried Elliot who cleared the bowls away. He'd only given her half a bowl of soup to start with - the total volume couldn't have amounted to more than a cup – and she'd barely eaten half of it. Four ounces of soup did not a meal make. It didn't even count as a snack. Briefly, his mind flashed to the half sandwich that still remained in the fridge, and he wondered if he could somehow encourage Olivia to eat it before she went to bed later tonight. Shaking his head ruefully, Elliot knew it was a lost cause. No matter what she was going through, Olivia was still a grown woman. He couldn't force her to eat. Encourage, yes. But he couldn't make her. It was something she had to want to do for herself.

After he'd cleaned up the kitchen, Elliot returned to living room. He found Olivia in the same position as before – tucked up in one corner of the couch, her knees pulled against her chest. This time though, she had her phone in her hand, staring at the blank display. Approaching cautiously, so as not to startle her, he called to her softly.

"Liv? You okay?"

"No."

Hurrying to join her, he sat again on the opposite end, and looked at her with concern.

"Liv, what is it?"

"There is something I haven't told you, but I don't know if I can."

He wanted to take her hand then, offer some type of comfort, but was so hesitant to touch her. Especially after their recent interactions involving physical contact.

"I want you to know that you can tell me anything, but only if you're ready."

"I feel I owe you, you've been so open with me."

Elliot's eyes were filled with compassion as he regarded the woman sitting across from him.

"It's not a matter of owing, Liv."

"I can't tell you."

The words stung more than he thought they would. Still, Elliot resigned himself to accept it. He hoped that one day she'd be able to trust him again. Until then, he'd support her as he always had in the past. As though she'd registered his hurt expression, Olivia attempted to explain.

"No, Elliot – what I meant is I _literally_ can't tell you. I can't say the words. I can't bring myself to say them again. Call it denial if you want, but the more I say them, the more real it becomes. But I do want you to know the truth."

It was quiet for a moment, as though she was thinking something over.

"Do you have an e-mail address?"

"Of course."

Elliot watched as she picked up the phone and dialed a number. He wasn't sure what exactly she was up to, and felt anxiety creeping up in him yet again. While he desperately wanted to know her story, there was a part of him that wanted to stay in the dark a little longer. Once he was thrown into the same reality as she was, it would be a struggle to maintain the strong facade he'd been able to keep so far in her presence. He couldn't break down on her now, not when she needed him.

"Fin?"

Elliot was surprised by the turn things had taken, but not shocked. Of course Olivia and Fin would have remained close after his departure. While he and the other detective had often disagreed, they both had always had Olivia in common.

"I'm sorry I didn't call you sooner, thank you again for sending that text to check up on me."

"Of course Liv. I told you, I've got your back. But something tells me this isn't a social call, or else you wouldn't be calling me at work. What's going on?"

Olivia tried not to sigh. Of course Fin would figure her out.

"I'm going to tell you something, but I don't want you to get upset. Just hear me out, okay?"

"You know you can tell me anything, Liv."

Closing her eyes, Olivia took a deep breath. She knew her friend wasn't going to take this first bit of news well. Despite his promises, she was prepared for his outburst.

"Elliot's here. He showed up last night."

"WHAT? That bastard! Did he upset you? To hell with work, I can be in Cape May in less than two hours if I floor it. Do you need me to come talk to him for you, make him leave?"

_There it was_. Olivia mused. No matter how conflicted she was in the moment, it did her heart good to know that Fin still had her best interests at heart.

"You don't need to do that. I won't say I'm not upset with him, but he's explained his reasons, Fin, and they are valid. He didn't know – he doesn't know."

Something in the tone of her voice must have convinced the man on the other end of the line, because Fin didn't insist any more. For that, Olivia was grateful. Now, came the hard part – the favor she was needing to ask him. Given that she was technically his superior officer, even though not an acting one at this moment, she hoped he would acknowledge her request.

"I need you to compile my files – since the cases are all closed now, you should be able to access them – and send the PDF documents to Elliot's e-mail address. I'm authorizing my consent that he is allowed to read them."

Now, there was even more concern in Fin's voice.

"Liv, are you sure?"

"I can't tell him Fin. I want him to know, but I can't say the words. Not again, not this soon."

Fin assured her that he would do as she asked. Then, to her surprise, he asked to speak to Elliot. She'd expected to be the one to relay the e-mail address, or even text it later. Holding the phone out to Elliot, she said words she hadn't thought she would.

"He wants to talk to you."

Elliot, who had been quietly observing Olivia's end of the call, accepted the cell and brought it to his ear. Much like it had been over three years since he'd last seen his partner before showing up at the door yesterday, the same amount of time had passed since he'd last spoken with with Fin.

"Hello, Fin. Yes, I'm well aware that I'm a bastard for leaving her. No, I don't have any intention of ever doing it again – not unless she asks me to."

Elliot listened as Fin railed at him some more, not bothering to make any apologies. He'd already apologized to the only people who mattered. One day, he'd tell his story to his other colleagues as well, but now was not the time. The conversation was changing quickly now – where once he was being admonished, now Fin was warning him.

"I'll be sending the files to you via e-mail like Liv asked, but take caution in reading them Stabler. Don't do it on a full stomach. I know you were on the force a lot of years, but you've never seen or heard anything like this – and it involves someone you love."

"Fin"

He tried to argue, but it was useless.

"Stabler, whether you admit it or not, you've always loved her. Just like she's always loved you. Just because you were never together doesn't mean it wasn't real. She's going to need you now, more than ever before. Don't let her down, or you'll have to answer to me."

"I won't."

The call ended, with Fin promising to send files for him to read as soon as Liv texted his e-mail address. For reasons he couldn't quite explain, Elliot felt himself breaking out in a cold sweat. Just what kind of horrors was he about to find out about regarding Olivia?

Weary from the various turns the day and night had taken, Olivia was more than ready for bed. After texting Elliot's e-mail address to Fin, she stood from the couch. Grabbing her bottle of sleeping pills that were still on the coffee table from the misunderstanding that afternoon, she started to head toward the stairs.

"I'm sorry, Elliot, for being such poor company tonight. Please, do me a favor – when you do get those files – read them with caution. If it gets to be too much for you, stop. I don't want you to have a setback in your recovery because of me. If you should need a meeting, I'll understand. I'll even understand if you never want to see me again after learning about what happened to me."

Olivia sounded so small and broken then, and Elliot wanted nothing more than to hold her in his arms and reassure her. He hoped that one day in the near future, he'd be able to offer physical comfort without the risk of triggering her by accident. For now, though, he simply wanted to make her understand that he was here for her, no matter what.

"You heard me talking to Fin not long ago, Liv. I'm not leaving you ever again – unless you tell me to. In fact, and I hope I'm not overstepping my boundaries by saying this, I can stay here with you until you're ready to be on your own."

Elliot had expected to see annoyance, maybe even anger on Olivia's face, but the only expression reflected there was one of relief. Was this something she had been wanting to ask him today but had been afraid to ask? He wasn't going to push her any more tonight, though.

"Goodnight, Liv. I hope you get some sleep. Don't worry, I'll remember the rules from last night."

"Goodnight El. I want you to get some sleep, too. I'll see you in the morning. Maybe I'll even let you convince me to eat some toast again, too."

With those words, and a half smile, Olivia made her way up the stairs, leaving Elliot alone. His phone chimed not long after, indicating an incoming e-mail. These were the files he had equally been anticipating and dreading. He knew he had Olivia's permission to view them, but he still felt like it was going to be a huge invasion of her privacy.

Locking up for the night, Elliot decided against any kind of extra food for himself. Instead, he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and went upstairs to his room. Settling himself on the bed, he took out his tablet and opened the files and began to read. Little did he know, he was going to be in for one of the longest nights of his life.


	4. Olivia's Story

**Disclaimer: SVU and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. I own nothing. Quotes that are in italics and are underlined are taken directly from the show, and not my own dialogue.**

* * *

Elliot sat in bed, having just opened the first of the files that Fin had sent to him. This one didn't have to do with Olivia in any way, but had to be connected somehow, unless it had been sent in error. However, a William Lewis was attached, and unless he was mistaken, that was the name that Olivia had called out earlier during her flashback. No, in this particular case, the victim was a woman by the name of Alice Parker.

He didn't know what to think in regard to this particular perp. It had been over three years since he'd read details of a crime like this, and while he still had his fair share of nightmares on occasion in regard to the job, they had never been this graphic. This case seemed like something out of a horror movie, and had he not known for a fact that the events had happened in real life, Elliot wasn't so sure he'd have been able to believe them.

Burned off fingerprints...an unconfirmed identity...a 'simple' case of public indecency and exposure spiraling out of control into a horrifying nightmare for the woman who had reported it. Even before he had all the facts, Elliot had quickly been able to connect the dots and deduce that this William Lewis was a psychopath. His anxieties heightened and his stomach began to churn at the mere thought of a individual like that being anywhere near Olivia, even in an interrogation room.

As Elliot read his former Captain's report, he could easily understand the guilt the man must have felt when he had failed to notice the danger Alice Parker had been in the night he had stopped at her apartment. But there would have been no way for him to know that William Lewis had been standing just beyond the door.

When he saw the horrific details of just what had been done to Mrs. Parker, Elliot rethought his former analysis. Lewis was more than just a psychopath – he had no conscience whatsoever. He was the epitome of pure evil. It had been years since he'd been immersed in that world he'd left behind, and yet he felt his old instincts returning. He didn't want to swipe the screen to get to the next page, because he knew what was coming next. For now, as long as he didn't see the printed words in front of his eyes, he could choose to live in denial for a little while longer. Eventually, though, he would be forced to face the inevitable – that William Lewis had somehow gotten his hands on Olivia.

Taking a deep breath, he scrolled the page and read on. The next thing he was reading was Alice Parker's own statement in regard to what she had endured at Lewis's hands. It was accompanied by photographs that had been taken at the hospital, and Elliot felt his stomach churn again. If he hadn't fully comprehended the warnings from Don and Fin before, he did now. But now fear was starting to creep in again, too. He dreaded what he would see when Olivia's files would come up on his screen.

Elliot forced himself to look at the images in front of him, that reminded him of something out of a macabre horror novel. Suddenly, the term psychopath didn't seem appropriate enough in describing this monster. He didn't know if a word actually existed in the English language that could. The only hope he could cling to was that by the time he reached the end of this heinous report, he would learn that William Lewis was either rotting in a jail cell for the rest of his days, or was six feet underground. At the moment, either would be preferable, and he hadn't even seen the details yet of what Olivia had had to live through.

In disbelief, Elliot's eyes widened as the incredulity of Alice Parker's case played out before him. Unfortunately, the woman had died of a heart attack as a secondary result of her assault, and Lewis had very nearly escaped trial. If not for the work of an Amanda Rollins, who Elliot had deduced must be one of the Detectives at SVU in the wake of his departure, they might not have had enough evidence to take him to court.

But then, an unforeseen snag - by a strange and disturbing twist of events, it had appeared that Lewis had been sleeping with his public defense attorney. When Olivia had tried to make the woman aware that this was a pattern for the criminal – he'd allegedly even murdered a previous attorney, in addition to torturing several other women – it only served to give Vanessa Mayer more ammunition for her case. At trial, she'd claimed that SVU, and Olivia in particular, had a vendetta against her client.

Though he'd already seen it coming from a mile away, Elliot felt sick to his stomach when he read that Vanessa Mayer had paid Lewis's bail fees. To make matters worse, Alice Parker's case had ended in a mistrial.

The last part of documentation Elliot saw, just before the addendum that the files were attached to another case, was a hand written note from Cragen. It detailed that he had sent an overworked Detective Benson home for a minimum of two days, and that the rest was to be mandatory. Anxious now to know what had happened next, Elliot advanced to the following page, but he'd reached the end of the file. He clicked to the next one, and promptly forgot to breathe. Suddenly, the words he'd overheard Olivia utter on the phone earlier that evening made even more sense. She'd said she was going to authorize it so that Fin could send _her_ files. He just hadn't wanted to accept she'd been speaking in the literal sense. Glaring up at him from the screen of his tablet in harsh print was a brand new case number, and the name of the victim was listed as Olivia Benson.

* * *

Maybe it had been denial on his part, maybe it had been something else entirely. Up until now, Elliot had been refusing to believe that his Olivia – the woman he'd spent thirteen years walking beside only to leave without a word – could fall victim to one of the very monsters they had always worked so tirelessly to put behind bars. If he were to be completely honest with himself, he'd known the truth ever since he had first laid eyes on her the night before.

Given the nature of what he was about to read, and what he had witnessed with her behavior today alone, Elliot was surprised that Olivia was opening up and letting him in this soon. Although she had already become exposed and vulnerable in front of him on more than one occasion. For her to go on hiding what had happened would only increase his concerns, and he knew she was aware of that.

It might have helped that he'd already told his own story earlier this afternoon – for Olivia to learn just what he had gone through and where he had been had given her the confidence to share her ordeals. Yes, he would have preferred to have heard the words directly from Olivia herself, but he also knew just how much it had taken her to reveal this much. As it was, he would likely be hearing her voice in his head as he read her statement, anyway. Inhaling deeply, Elliot released a shaky breath, and continued on with his reading.

 _Four days_. Olivia had been at the mercy of that psychopath for four days. Something else that came to his attention that he hadn't paid much attention to initially was the fact that Brian Cassidy had been the one to come to the station asking if anyone had seen her. Brian Cassidy – as in the same guy who had been with their unit back in the early years of his and Olivia's partnership, who she'd had a regretful one night stand with? How on earth had they managed to cross paths again? Moreover, it appeared they had become quite close, too.

As quickly as they had surfaced, Elliot tried to bury his feelings of jealousy. He had no claim on Olivia, not anymore. If he were truly honest with himself, he'd never had a claim on her to begin with. Besides, that wasn't what mattered here. Even though he knew that Olivia had in fact survived her ordeal – she was sleeping just down the hall – for him, reading this account was like living the events in real time.

Advancing to the next page, he was met with a series of images, and his stomach lurched once more. The pictures in front of him clearly showed Olivia's apartment, but it was nothing like the way he remembered it. Chairs had been overturned, broken glass was scattered about, duct tape had been cataloged, there were even empty cans of what looked to be an energy drink littering the coffee table. Two empty bottles of vodka were beside them.

Though every instinct told him not to, Elliot couldn't resist to zoom in further on the details. Maybe it was a form of self-punishment, but he just had to know. Blood. That was blood staining her carpet. Whatever Lewis had done to her, that bastard had made her bleed. Elliot's mind began to run wild with scenarios, and he tried to remind himself yet again that Olivia was safe. He wouldn't tell himself that she was fine, because it was obvious that she was anything of the sort. But she was alive, she was here, and he would spend however long it took helping her to recover.

The next set of images on the screen puzzled Elliot, though he knew from experience that CSU would have needed to photograph everything. But why would they have been so focused on Olivia's kitchen? Suddenly, a visual came to his mind from Alice Parker's file. Lewis had burned the other woman repeatedly with cigarettes and metal objects that he'd heated up on her stove.

"Oh Liv, _no_. Tell me he didn't."

Elliot's anguished whisper filled the room, his plea falling on deaf ears. He hadn't even seen the photos from the kitchen yet, and he was already scrolling back to the ones from the living room. Concentrating once more on the coffee table, he saw exactly what he'd been hoping not to find – several cigarette butts tossed haphazardly about.

It occurred to him then, that ever since he'd seen Olivia again, she'd kept herself covered up. Long sleeves, and higher, crew cut necklines. In the past, he had always known her to favor v-necks. He shuddered to think just what she was hiding beneath all those layers. Again, the images from Alice Parker's hospital exam danced before his eyes, and the sheer thought of Olivia being hurt in that way made him ill. Knowing he couldn't avoid it any longer, he swiped his finger across the tablet to view the evidence from the kitchen.

The kitchen hadn't been as much of a mess as the living room. There were no empty liquor bottles to be seen, no energy drinks, no cigarettes. However, he did see a frying pan on the stove, and this puzzled him greatly. As long as he'd known Olivia, she had never been the cooking type. He hadn't even known that she _owned_ a frying pan. Could it be that she had offered to make Lewis something to eat in an attempt to buy time? He flipped to the next slide, a feeling of dread washing over him.

 _Keys_. As he studied them, he recognized one that stood out among the others – it was the key to Olivia's apartment – something that should have been a beacon of safety. The very thing that provided her entry into her home, and it had been used against her as an instrument of torture.

After viewing all the images, Elliot forced himself to read Cragen and Fin's personal accounts. He'd thought he'd been handling everything as best as he could until he'd come across the words detailing the smell of burnt flesh having been present in the air. That was when he could fight his rebellious stomach no longer.

* * *

Collapsed on his knees in front of the toilet in the bathroom between the two guest rooms, Elliot heaved and gagged. It had been hours since he'd eaten last, so nothing had come up, but that didn't stop his retching. Thanks to everything he had seen so far, the mental picture was so clear, he had practically immersed himself in the crime scene. He had closed his eyes for mere seconds, and envisioned himself standing in the chaos of Olivia's apartment, witnessing as Fin and Don discovered their beloved friend and coworker missing.

The guilt was washing over him in waves now, even if it was selfish of him to think like that. What had happened to Olivia was in no way about him, but Elliot couldn't help but believe that if he'd have been there, he'd have done whatever was necessary to prevent it. Still, he knew he couldn't blame anyone other than William Lewis for the path of destruction left behind.

Mentally, Elliot berated himself, and tried to pull himself together. This wasn't about his guilt. He would have to come to terms with that on his own time. What he needed right now was to be strong for Olivia. That meant learning about everything that she had been through. It didn't matter if it was hard for him to read, she was the one who had lived through it. In a way, he considered this part of the penance he must pay for having left her for so long.

Going back to the bedroom briefly to retrieve his tablet and his cell phone, Elliot settled in the bathroom to resume reading. It might be a bit extreme, but he wanted to err on the side of caution, in case the nausea should get the better of him for a second time. As it was, it seemed he was beyond the initial photographs, and would now be reading statements regarding the time Olivia had been missing and held captive by Lewis.

He'd just picked up the tablet again when he almost dropped it at the sound of a piercing scream that nearly shattered his soul. Looking at his watch, Elliot noticed that it was just about the same time as the previous night when Olivia had cried out in her sleep from whatever terrors haunted her. Knowing there was nothing he could do right now, because she had stated on more than one occasion that she didn't want him coming into her room to wake her, Elliot tried again to read. Even if she wasn't welcoming his presence now, one day she might, and he wanted to be able to understand what she had been through. That way, he could offer genuine comfort, and not mere platitudes that would sound trite and hollow in the wake of all that she had suffered.

The next thing Elliot was reading, was how Vanessa Mayer had yet again refused to cooperate, still steadfast in her belief that Lewis was innocent. Crime scene reports came up on his tablet, of the Mayer family home. Mr. Mayer was already dead upon the Detective's arrival, and Mrs. Mayer had been found in a closet bound by the arms. Much like Alice Parker, she had been raped and burned repeatedly. Before the woman had passed out in the ambulance, they were able to get a statement from her that let them know that Olivia was still alive – Lewis had forced her to watch him as he carried out his crimes, but she had been barely conscious throughout the ordeal.

There had been one other detail about the evidence found on the Mayer property that had made Elliot smile briefly, despite the grim nature of all that he was learning. Fin had found Olivia's necklace in the wheel well of the trunk of a car Lewis had stolen. Even with everything she'd already suffered, she'd still had the presence of mind to leave behind a clue, and had still been clinging to the hope that the squad would find her. The pride that Elliot had always felt in regard to Olivia surged within him, and in a way, he found himself cheering her on – even though he knew these events had already reached their conclusion. The sheer thought of Olivia ever having been kept in the trunk of a car made him ill, but he couldn't dwell on that – not now.

Lewis' trail of destruction continued on for another few pages, with no mention of Olivia. There was the murdered patrol officer, whose squad car was stolen. Then a woman and her baby ultimately found in the trunk of that squad car – shaken, but relatively unharmed. It was when Elliot was reading the details of what had been purchased at the hardware store with a stolen credit card that he found himself kneeling over the toilet once more. He wasn't sure if it was learning the identity of the purchases themselves, or the fact that Olivia had screamed out in terror in her sleep yet again that had precipitated his renewed nausea.

A tarp, rope, wire, and a hand-held blowtorch. Elliot found himself staring at the copy of the receipt in disbelief. Please, no. He sent up a desperate prayer to a God he wasn't even sure he still believed in some days, begging that Olivia had been spared the torture that these items would have inflicted. How had red flags not been raised to the store's owner? Who the fuck needs a _blowtorch_ to go camping? Then again, Elliot supposed, even if the man had shown any suspicion, he'd likely have ended up dead. Lewis had already made it perfectly clear that killing those who stood in his way was not an issue.

The words continued to dance in front of his eyes, and the next thing he knew, Elliot was reading his former colleagues' account of Olivia's rescue. To his dismay, Lewis had still been alive at the time of their arrival to the Long Island beach house where they'd ultimately ended up. However, one detail did catch his eye – the man had been beaten within an inch of his life with a metal bar from an iron frame bed.

"Good job, Liv. I knew you'd make him pay."

Now, Elliot was at an impasse. Though he knew Olivia had entrusted him with her files, it somehow didn't feel right to be reading her medical charts from the hospital. Plus, he wasn't sure if he was ready to see the photographs that would catalog her injuries and give him an actual visual. No – if Olivia should want him to see her scars, then it would be up to her to reveal them to him. He wouldn't invade her privacy in that way. He did, however, scan the summary of the report.

_Patient was treated for concussion, broken wrist, cracked ribs, several contusions, and multiple burns on chest, torso, and arms. Blood tests came back positive for alcohol, hydrocodone, and doxylamine. Multiple bags of fluids were necessary to combat severe dehydration. All results from the sexual assault exam were negative._

Upon reading those last four words, Elliot released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. It certainly didn't negate the horrors Olivia had been made to endure, but Lewis hadn't raped her. Still, he understood all too well how the trauma of a close call can have an effect on a woman just as much as the assault itself. No doubt Lewis had spent much his time holding Olivia captive taunting her and threatening her, and Elliot had no doubt that was only part of what kept her screaming late into the night.

* * *

It occurred to Elliot that the last time he had cried this much, he had been drowning at the bottom of a bottle of whiskey. Once he had gotten himself sober, it was only on rare occasions that he would shed a tear, typically when remembering all that he had left behind. That all changed when he saw Olivia again. He had first gotten misty eyed when she'd thrown her arms around him. Then, last night, he'd openly wept upon hearing her screams and feeling so completely helpless to save her from her nightmares.

Now, tears were streaming down his face yet again, and it was all because of Olivia. Reading the statement of her ordeal had just about broken him. Just as he'd predicted, it had been her voice echoing in his head as he'd scanned the words line by line. Part of what he was doing still felt like an intrusion into her privacy, even though he knew he'd been given permission to read. This had been her way of sharing the story with him, as she'd plainly said she wasn't able to say the words aloud.

As he got to the close of Olivia's statement, still in shock after reading about all that she had endured, Elliot found himself getting angry. This woman – this incredibly brave, resilient woman – had just spent hours detailing the four days of abject horror she had been made to suffer, and of course IAB was putting her through the ringer. If he didn't know better, he would think _she_ were the suspect instead of Lewis. At least that rat bastard Tucker hadn't been the one to interview her this time. Zeroing in on the transcript, he held on tight to Olivia's words. In reality, he knew she had been bending the truth in regard to the lengths she had gone to, but had he been there, he would have backed her play no matter what.

" _I was able to break free of my restraints. There was a struggle. Uh, I managed to incapacitate the suspect and get the gun. I, uh, got the handcuff key from his pocket. I freed myself, called for backup_."

Elliot read on as Olivia was questioned about what had happened next, and he could practically hear the accusation in the IAB Detective's voice. He skimmed through, trying to quell his rising anger. He didn't need to be flying off at the handle right now. Instead, he focused on what Olivia's response had been.

" _He managed to get to a standing position and lunge at me. I used the metal bar from the bed frame to subdue him._ "

Swiping at his eyes, Elliot sniffled slightly. What a nightmare for Olivia to have to live through. From the sounds of things in the Captain's notes, she'd gone to stay with Brian Cassidy in the aftermath of her ordeal. That made the most sense, he figured. While he'd never liked the guy, better for Olivia to be with someone she knew and trusted than to have to stay in an impersonal, sterile hotel. Her apartment would have been a crime scene for some time, and heaven only knew if she would have even wanted to go back to the place. He only hoped that Cassidy hadn't done something completely insensitive and boneheaded, and that perhaps that was the reason Olivia was here in Cape May alone without him.

The last thing Elliot saw was an attachment – notes from a Dr. Peter Lindstrom, who was apparently Olivia's therapist. At first, Elliot was relieved that she had sought help, then he realized that seeing someone had likely been mandatory. Obviously, no privileged information had been included, but the only thing of concern was that Olivia had already stated that she wanted to return to work, less than six weeks after she had been found.

"Oh, Liv."

By now, Elliot had made it through what he thought was the worst of it all. Yes, there were still the trial transcripts to read, but he needed to take a brief break. Gathering his things, he decided to go back to the bedroom he was using for the remaining hours until morning. He'd long ago abandoned any thought of sleeping tonight. About twenty minutes ago, Olivia's screams had abated, allowing him to hope that she had fallen into some semblance of rest.

Elliot couldn't believe that what he had been reading could possibly get worse, until he started on the trial transcripts. At first he was surprised that Olivia had asked Fin to include them, then had figured there was something important in their contents that he needed to know. If, for whatever reason, William Lewis had managed to escape conviction again – Elliot swore to himself that he would personally hunt down the man and make him pay. The fact that there was even a trial transcript to begin with meant that Lewis had survived his injuries.

He hadn't gotten far into the court documents when he was already cursing Lewis again. Even in the pre-trial hearings, Lewis and his attorney had managed to get the judge to separate out the charges. The ADA for SVU - a Rafael Barba - would only be able to try him for the kidnapping, assault, attempted rape and attempted murder of Olivia.

Something at the end of the page caught Elliot's eye – apparently Lewis had been willing to plead guilty and spare Olivia a trial? Why had she refused? Puzzled, he read on, then immediately wished that he hadn't. In learning the details of Lewis' supposed crisis of conscience, Elliot realized just what he had planned to say in his allocution in open court upon his admission of guilt. In addition to the kidnapping and torture, he wanted to give in explicit detail accounts of his rape and sodomy of Olivia – events that had never happened. While it would inevitably make his sentence harsher, it would also serve to further humiliate and degrade Olivia – in essence making her his victim for a second time.

Even though he'd already guessed what her answer would have been, Elliot felt another surge of pride upon learning Olivia had refused the offer. No matter how many painful memories the trial would bring up for her, she would never let anyone believe anything about her that hadn't happened. Still, he could imagine her anger and fury upon finding out what the defendant had proposed. Months later, he was feeling those exact same emotions.

Elliot skimmed through the pages detailing jury selection, although he did make a mental note of all the approved members. He was reading of how Barba approved of the jury, when suddenly a statement from Lewis himself caught his eye – the bastard was requesting a change of attorney, the _day before_ his trial was set to begin. To make matters worse, he now wanted to represent himself! That meant, when Olivia was on the stand, he'd be cross-examining her personally!

"No, no, no..."

He didn't even realize he was speaking out loud as he read on in disbelief, the judge having approved Lewis' request. This was the part of the judicial system that Elliot hated most. He'd seen it several times over the course of his career, where the accused had taken it upon themselves to act as their own counsel. Sometimes it was a monetary issue, other times it was more sinister in nature – as the opportunity it afforded them gave them control over their accusers once more. There was nothing that he could do about it to protect Olivia now, though. The trial had already taken place. William Lewis had been allowed to defend himself. All that was left for him to do was learn the outcome.

* * *

He was going to get away with it. That was Elliot's biggest fear – that he was would reach the end of these court transcripts and learn that William Lewis's case had ended in another mistrial, or worse – a not guilty verdict. Just as he had when he'd been reading about the crime scene in Olivia's apartment, Elliot envisioned himself a spectator in the courtroom. Part of him wished he could turn back the clock, and actually have been there for her when she needed him most. The squad would not have been allowed to stay, as they were all on the witness list. Who had been there for her to center her gaze on, to concentrate on, when giving her testimony?

One by one, Elliot read in horror the way Lewis questioned the members of the SVU squad. He would systematically twist their words, portraying himself to be the victim of some grand scheme. Everything that he read, Elliot found reprehensible. But, when he got to Olivia's testimony, that was when things went from bad to worse.

For all intents and purposes, William Lewis had managed to make Olivia look like the aggressor in the situation. This painted her to look like not only a dirty cop, but a sex crazed drug addict with an attraction to bad boys. It didn't help that Lewis kept playing up the beating he had received at the end of the four day ordeal as excessive force. Maybe it had been, but Olivia had also been a victim under extreme duress. In Elliot's mind her anger and reactions had been justified.

The trial went on – seemingly endless in Elliot's opinion – though if he felt like that now, he could only imagine what it must have been like for Olivia to endure. The more he read, the more incredulous he would become at the latitude the judge seemed to extend. Lewis had practically just insinuated to Olivia's current partner – a Detective Amaro – that she could have been the one to pull the trigger on the patrol officer, because her fingerprints were also on the weapon. Logically, Elliot knew that Lewis had simply been trying to create reasonable doubt, but it still made him angry. Tricks like that always had.

Now, he was sick to his stomach again, but for a whole new reason – disgust. Once again, Lewis was dirtying up Olivia's reputation, focusing on the beating he had received. In the section Elliot was reading now, a doctor was on the stand. Lewis was dragging out the details of each injury, trying to imply that any one of them individually would have incapacitated him.

It was Olivia's turn to be on the stand next, and while he was equally anticipating seeing how she faced off against this monster, and dreading what she would have to go through, Elliot read on. To his dismay, he saw in the transcript that Lewis had asked to approach the bench and called for recess. Something about extreme fatigue due to recovery from a collapsed lung. Bastard even had a note from his doctor. Was there any end to the amount of women this man could charm?

When he was actually reading Lewis' cross examination of Olivia, Elliot felt that sick feeling return to the pit of his stomach. Once again, the monster was trying to degrade and humiliate her in whatever way possible. First, he was trying to imply that she had become sexually obsessed with him, then he had begun an inappropriate line of questions into her personal life. To make matters worse, the judge didn't seem to find a problem with it.

Olivia a hostile witness? Were they fucking serious? Elliot reconsidered his earlier thoughts about having wished he could have been in the courtroom. He'd have done Olivia no favors at all if his temper would have flared and he'd have found himself in contempt of court. His anger hasn't felt this out of control toward any one individual – save for Bushido – in years.

As the testimony became more heated and intense, Elliot could visualize the scene in his mind – Olivia seated in the box, Lewis standing right in front of her, encroaching in her personal space. The more he would have hounded her, the more insistent she would have become. He kept gripping the tablet tighter and tighter, until he had to loosen his hold for fear of cracking the screen with the strength of his grip. It also came to his attention that tears were leaking from his eyes once more. To make matters worse, at the last minute, Lewis changed his mind about taking the stand, and was ready for closing arguments. He'd claimed the prosecution hadn't proved their case.

Finally, the trial had come to its conclusion. Now all that was left to do was learn the verdict. Part of him didn't want to know. But he owed it to Olivia to keep reading. What's this now? Was he reading this right? The jury forewoman had a statement before reading the verdict? _Serious reservations about the conduct of Detective Benson that they weren't sure how to address?_ What the actual fuck? Oh no – the forewoman – could Lewis have gotten to her, too? Could he have swayed an entire jury?

Scrolling rapidly, Elliot scanned the results as fast as he could, the anger coiling in the pit of his belly. Without even realizing it, his one hand clenched into a fist as he tried to suppress his rage.

_On the charge of attempted murder, we find the defendant, William Lewis, not guilty._

_On the charge of attempted rape, we find the defendant not guilty._

_On the charge of assault on a police officer, we find the defendant guilty._

_On the charge of kidnapping, we find the defendant guilty._

That was it? Assault and kidnapping? Granted, it was better than letting the man walk free, but who were they kidding? At least he could rest peacefully knowing that William Lewis was behind bars, and focus on helping Olivia heal. But, wait a minute – the court dates had all taken place in January of this year, it was now April. Why was Don only sending Olivia away now? Had PTSD gotten to be too much for her? Closing out the document on his screen, Elliot felt his heart crack and shatter. There was one more file that he hadn't seen, and he feared reading it would be worse than all the others combined.

* * *

The feeling of relief Elliot had felt upon reading about William Lewis' guilty verdicts was only fleeting. Even the subsequent sentencing had done nothing to allay the cold sweat that had broken out on his brow when he noticed there was yet another file left to read. Despite everything he had hoped, that monster's reign of terror hadn't ended.

Looking at the heading on this new file, he saw that the events were dated as recently as March 31st of this year. That was only a few short weeks ago. He'd been in Florida with his kids then. If something else had happened to her, it easily explained Olivia's behavior. Not that it would negate her previous trauma in any way, but it would make sense as to why she was still so very much on edge.

According to the report, William Lewis had collapsed at Rikers, and was transferred to Bellevue Hospital's prison ward. Once there, he had been pronounced dead, only to mysteriously regain a heartbeat and full life function ten minutes later. Elliot was in disbelief. How was the man so unstoppable?

As if the news of Lewis' survival hadn't been bad enough, Elliot learned that the man had somehow managed to convince a guard to remove his handcuffs. The guard had subsequently been killed, and then Lewis had raped a nurse, hanging her up in a closet and stealing her keys, purse, and cell phone. On the way to his next location, Lewis had used the nurse's phone to call – Olivia.

Surprised that he hadn't already done so earlier, Elliot slipped into a form of auto-pilot, as the renewed shock took over. He knew he could easily stop and read the rest at another time, that this was entirely too much for any one person to try and process in the span of one night, but he was physically incapable of putting the tablet down. Maybe it was like he reasoned to himself earlier, that this was a form of penance or self imposed punishment, but he couldn't stop reading now.

Despite all the darkness that he was encountering, one thing made Elliot's heart swell with pride. That was when he learned that in the wake of Cragen's retirement, Olivia had been promoted to Sergeant and was now in charge of the Manhattan SVU. Of course, given Lewis' escape, that wasn't to last for long, as 1PP wouldn't let her be in charge of a manhunt, given she was the prime target of the man they were hunting. Sure enough, a Lieutenant Declan Murphy was mentioned in the next paragraph, now acting commander of the squad. While Elliot felt sympathy for Olivia in losing her ground, he did agree with Lt. Murphys' first decision – putting an around the clock detail on Olivia until Lewis was back in custody.

In the middle of all the chaos, it appeared that Lewis' reign of terror had continued. This time, he had chosen to visit his doctor's house, ultimately murdering the woman before raping her oldest daughter. He'd taken the youngest with him when he'd left, a twelve year old named Amelia. Elliot's heart began to race again, as he knew exactly what the plan was. Lewis may have been a deviant man, but he was not a pedophile. Amelia had been nothing more than bait – and the trap had been set for Olivia.

With his heart in his throat, Elliot read on as Lewis led the SVU squad on veritable wild goose chase throughout the city. Finally, he got to the point where Olivia had been all but forced into making a televised confession that she had committed perjury while on the stand. There was a video link included, and he had watched, transfixed, as his former partner stood behind a bank of microphones in full dress uniform admitting to her 'crimes'. Such an act could ultimately destroy her entire career.

Elliot quickly determined what he had just witnessed with the press conference was nothing in regard to what he read next. The two decorated detectives in charge of her care – whose entire job it had been to guard her safely – had been too preoccupied. Olivia had been able to duck her detail, and commandeer a civilian vehicle. She had been determined to go and offer herself up to Lewis in exchange for Amelia. Once again, Elliot felt the need to remind himself that whatever had transpired after that, Olivia had in fact survived, and was in the same house with him at that very moment. He couldn't let himself go down that slippery slope into darkness.

The rest of the report was a collection of statements, from varying accounts. Knowing which one would give the most accurate information, Elliot clicked on Olivia's. Her words were the only ones that mattered to him right now.

Apparently, once she had received instructions from Lewis to meet him at a specific location, Olivia had driven there without question. When she'd gotten out of the car, he had approached her and taken her gun and phone. He'd also stripped her of her bullet proof vest, systematically flinging each item farther away than the last. The only two belongings of hers that he had kept had been her handcuffs and her radio. Elliot didn't even need to read Olivia's recollection of Lewis' reasoning to know that his reasons for wanting those particular things had been for ill intent.

After he'd handcuffed her hands behind her back, Lewis had forced her into a car, and driven her someplace else – this time an abandoned granary in Red Hook. He had promised to take her to where he was keeping Amelia, and for once, it appeared he was a man of his word. They'd had to climb several flights of stairs to the very top, but Olivia had soon laid eyes on the girl. She was bound with her hands above her head, and obviously shaken, but it appeared that Lewis hadn't caused any physical harm to her.

That was when Lewis had offered Olivia a choice. She could either stand by and watch while he raped Amelia, or she could volunteer to be raped while Amelia watched. Elliot's heart began to race as dread took over his entire being. He hadn't even read the words yet, but he already knew what Olivia's answer had been. No matter what the cost to herself, she would never let another person become a victim if she had the chance to save them – even if that meant offering herself up in the process.

"Liv, no."

Again Elliot whispered the plea softly into the void of silence that surrounded him. Tears pricked at his eyes and a part of him didn't want to continue reading. But he forced himself to carry on, with the reminder that Olivia had entrusted him with this knowledge. It was important to her that he learn what she had been through. He owed it to her to find out the complete truth, down to the very last detail.

Olivia related in her statement that Lewis had bound her ankles to a table, spreading her legs apart. He'd also used rope to bind her wrists, splaying her arms out as well, flattening her stomach out on the surface. Coming up behind her, he had pressed against her, and pawed at her body roughly. When she'd offered him no resistance, he'd quickly lost interest. Elliot's sigh of relief was only temporary as the monster soon turned to a new game – Russian Roulette.

_Russian Roulette?_

Elliot scanned those words at least five or six times in succession, convinced that he hadn't read them properly. Then, he had to fight the urge to go down the hall and peer in the other bedroom, just to check and see that Olivia really was sleeping safely in her bed. A myriad of emotions was surging through him at the moment, but he kept trying to calm himself. Certainly, it had only been suggested, and Lewis hadn't made her actually play. There is no way that Olivia had actually held a loaded gun to her head and pulled the trigger – if she had, he didn't know how he'd be able to cope with that.

* * *

Elliot was on his knees in the bathroom once more, a mixture of heaves and sobs having taken full control of his body. Oh, God. She _had_ pulled the trigger. Not just once, but twice. Granted, it hadn't been willingly – Lewis had been aiming another gun either at her or Amelia to ensure she would cooperate with the 'game' – but he couldn't shake the images that were in his mind. What if the gun would have fired? What if she'd have been taken from him, and his last words ever to her would have been some poorly written note on a post it? Would she have gone to her death believing that he didn't care about her?

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Elliot rested his haunches on the back of his ankles. He was determined to finish reading this. From where he had left off, there had been only one chamber left in the gun, and the squad was advancing fast on the location. Yet again, Elliot reminded himself that even though it had been Olivia's 'turn', she had in fact survived. So, either the squad had arrived on time to take Lewis back into custody, or Olivia had managed to take him out on her own. She'd done it once before, after all.

Holding his breath, Elliot read on. Olivia's voice was an echo in his head as he read her words, reminding Amelia to look away. Lewis was taunting her incessantly this time, something about his face being the last thing she would ever see before she died. Then there was something in the report that gave him pause – Lewis had switched the gun to his opposite hand – just what was going on? Scanning the page a bit faster, he continued.

William Lewis was dead. The bastard's final act – to shoot himself in the head with his less dominant hand – had been an attempt to frame Olivia for his murder. If she had been found guilty, not only her career, but her reputation would have been destroyed. This time, Elliot allowed himself to scan a few of the images from the hospital, since they mainly seemed to be photographs of Olivia's face and hands. To see the blood staining her beautiful features was a heartbreaking sight, but it was the additional details that incited his anger.

Apparently, some incompetent idiot had had the brilliant idea to sedate a trauma victim with haloperidol. Moreover, there had been talk of admitting Olivia to the psychiatric ward? Thank goodness for this Dr. Lindstrom, and also a Dr. Reynolds, who had enough common sense to know that what Olivia needed most was not being locked away somewhere, even if it was for 'her own good'.

Elliot's rage only escalated further when he learned that Tucker hadn't even been able to wait until Olivia had been discharged from the hospital to question her. Thankfully, Trevor Langan had represented her, and made sure that it was a simple taking of a statement. Even better, on the following page, the ME's report had confirmed that Lewis' death had been ruled a suicide, absolving Olivia of any suspicion – which Elliot still couldn't believe there had been any to begin with. Then, Lieutenant Murphy had hosted a press conference of his own, informing the public that Olivia's prior statement had been made under his orders, and only to lure William Lewis out of hiding. Despite all of the attempts that man had made to destroy her, Olivia would still have everything she held so dear.

Still, Elliot couldn't imagine the toll this latest trauma was having on her. Not only had she come face to face with her own mortality – again – but she had witnessed a man commit suicide. He could remember just how shaken Olivia had been the time she had watched FBI agent Lauren Cooper shoot herself, and how that had shocked her. This would inevitably leave more of an impact. No wonder she was having flashbacks and night terrors. Even the lack of appetite and general apathy were somewhat normal considering everything she had endured. Elliot promised himself that he wouldn't push as hard from now on, but would still try and encourage her as best as he knew how.

Padding back into the bedroom, he noticed that the clock on the bedside table announced that it was almost six in the morning. He'd been up all night reading. Sleep would be impossible at this point, he was too wired with adrenaline – not to mention too emotionally charged to consider getting even a modicum of rest. As though someone else had read his mind, his phone began to ring. After a quick glance at the display, he answered, unable to keep the fatigue from showing in his voice.

"Hello, Don. I kind of figured you'd be calling."

"Elliot. I guess I don't need to ask. I've been worried about you ever since Fin messaged me and said that Olivia had authorized you to read her files. Of course, he doesn't know that we've been in contact."

The tears that he'd shed quietly for most of the night surged again, this time coming out in a more audible sob. It was much like the one he'd let loose with when he'd reached the tail end of Olivia's ordeal.

"She's so much stronger than I could ever hope to be, and I failed her. How can she not hate me? How can she not blame me? _I_ blame me."

"Elliot, stop. You know you can't do this to yourself. You can't go there. There is only one person at fault, and he is dead."

Elliot clutched the phone tighter, ashamed to admit the other thing most on his mind right now. He was afraid it would make him seem weak, but out of anyone in the world, the man on the other end of the line would understand his struggle.

"I want a drink in the worst way right now, Don. I know that probably makes me an ass, because none of this is about me – it's about Olivia and how I can help her – but all that is on my mind right now is getting some whiskey. I want it so bad I can practically taste it."

"You don't sound like an ass, son. Plus, the best way you can help Olivia is by helping yourself. That's why I already looked up meetings near you. There is one at eight at the Presbyterian Church. I can't make the decision for you, but I think you should go."

Elliot scribbled down the information he'd been given on a note pad, nodding his head at the same time. Then, he remembered that Don couldn't see him.

"I'm going to go, I promise. You're right, I need to keep myself healthy so I can be here for her. I'm not going to do her any good if I fall off the wagon."

Don asked a few more questions after that, mainly in regard to Olivia, as he'd suspected in his interactions with her, she hadn't been entirely truthful. Elliot answered as best as he could without breaking her confidence, but in truth, there wasn't much he had needed to say. Their former Captain had already read between the lines. He hadn't been Olivia's superior officer for almost fifteen years to not know when she was keeping something from him.

"Take care of her, Elliot. If she hasn't already, she's going to try and push you away. Don't take it personally. When she's ready for it, the neighbor, Owen, will be able to help, too."

Elliot agreed, then ended the call. There was still some time left before he had to leave for his meeting, and he wanted to use it wisely. Slipping on his shoes and grabbing a jacket, he headed downstairs and out of the cottage to go on brief run. He was avoiding the beach for today, instead opting to make a couple laps around the block.

He was halfway down the sidewalk when he realized his error – he'd forgotten to leave a note for Olivia on the counter letting her know where he'd gone. If she should wake up and come downstairs in his absence, he hoped his return wouldn't startle her. That was when Elliot remembered that she hadn't gotten up until almost eight the previous morning, so he had plenty of time. He would definitely leave a note when he went to his meeting, though.

Elliot returned from his run thirty minutes later. It wasn't his most extensive exercise, but he figured he'd managed to get in a good three miles. While his mind was still muddled with all the information he'd taken in overnight, the exertion had helped to quell the rising anger and frustration within him.

When he'd entered the cottage, it was still quiet, so he figured Olivia was still in bed. Grabbing a change of clothes, he took a quick shower. It may have been yet another form of self punishment, but he reveled in the feel of the scalding water against his skin as it was just a few degrees hotter than what he could normally handle.

After dressing for the day, Elliot headed downstairs and made some coffee. He took the time to drink only one cup before deciding to leave. Not exactly sure of the location of the Presbyterian Church, he wanted to allow himself enough time to find it, so he wouldn't be late for the meeting. He left a note for Olivia, then was on his way.

* * *

Olivia awoke at eight, with her usual feeling of malaise. Rather than allow herself some latitude given what she'd been through recently, instead she only berated herself further for her perceived weakness. Padding to the bathroom, she focused on trying to feel clean, letting the water warm her body from the inside out. Only when she had scrubbed her skin red and raw did she exit and begin her morning ritual of applying lotion to her scars.

After dressing in a pair of leggings and an oversized sweater, again preferring clothes that enveloped her frame, Olivia grabbed her phone and headed for the stairs. She hadn't heard Elliot yet this morning, which left her with one of two conclusions – either he was still sleeping, or he'd been so horrified by what he'd read in the reports that he couldn't bear to look at her ever again. It was quite possible he'd sneaked out under cover of night, and had disappeared from her life once more.

Upon setting foot in the kitchen, Olivia was greeted by the scent of coffee. Wherever he was now, Elliot had been here. Wait a minute – there was a note on the counter. If he'd left behind another medal and the words 'Semper Fi', she didn't think she'd be able to bear it. Picking up the piece of paper with a trembling hand, she began to read. What she felt when she had absorbed the contents of the note was a mixture of emotions she didn't know what to do with.

He had gone to a meeting. This was all her fault. Learning about what had happened to her had made him want to drink. What if she had compromised his sobriety? She'd never forgive herself. Though Olivia was grateful that Elliot was handling things responsibly, she couldn't help but feel like she was to blame. There must be something she could do to make things up to him.

Food – that was it. When he got back, Elliot would no doubt be worried about her, and wondering if she'd eaten. Though in her present state there was no way she could stomach anything, Olivia knew there was a way she could allay his concerns. Taking a plate from the cupboard and a butter knife from the drawer, she got to work. She realized that what she was about to do was a major deception on her part, but it the long run, it would hurt Elliot's feelings a lot less than a blatant refusal to eat.

Smearing some butter on the knife, just enough to dirty it, she placed it in the sink. Then, she opened the crumb tray on the toaster, and brushed some of the crumbs onto the plate. There weren't very many, so this option would likely only work for today, but it was all she had. She'd simply have to deal with other meal battles as she faced them. There was just no way she could force herself to eat anything.

Placing the now 'dirty' dish in the sink alongside the knife, Olivia passed on the coffee and instead opted for a cup of tea. While she waited for the water to boil, she wandered into the living room and absently flipped on the television, needing some sort of background noise to break the silence.

She had just finished flipping through the channels and settled on something when the kettle whistled from the kitchen. Putting down the remote, she quickly headed to silence the offending noise. After retrieving a mug from the cabinet, Olivia selected her flavor of tea. Opting for a ginger peach this morning in the hopes that it would somehow make her feel more invigorated, she allowed it to steep. When it was brewed to her liking, she sweetened the tea then took the mug into the living room, curling up in what was quickly becoming her favorite spot on the couch. Tossing the fleece blanket over her legs, she cupped her tea in both hands and took a careful sip.

Olivia wasn't sure what time it was, nor did she really care. She supposed that was one of the advantages about living in Cape May for a few months – unless she had scheduled appointment, time was completely irrelevant. She'd lived so much of her life by schedules or waking up to phone calls in the middle of the night, she wasn't sure she'd know what to do with nothing to govern her routine. While she wasn't exactly ready to join a gym here, there was always the beach. She could go for daily walks – or even runs – along the shore.

When she was finished with her tea, Olivia set the empty mug on the coffee table. Then, the sound of keys in the lock immediately put her nerves on edge, until she realized it was only Elliot returning. Trying her best to keep her face impassive and not show any reaction, she greeted him when he entered. The last thing she wanted him to know was that she not only blamed herself for his having needed a meeting, but that his return had frightened her. Things between them would likely be awkward enough as it was now that he knew the truth.

"Morning, Elliot."

"Morning, Liv. I wasn't sure if you'd be awake yet or not."

Olivia briefly explained that she'd been up for about an hour, dancing around the issue yet again of how poorly she'd slept. When she learned that Elliot had been for a run prior to heading out to his meeting, that did peak her interest. Trying not to sound too desperate, she merely asked that if he were to go again the following morning, that he wait for her to join.

"Of course. I was even thinking of taking a run on the beach sometime, actually."

The fact that he'd practically read her mind was oddly soothing, and Olivia took comfort in that. She'd forgotten just how much she'd missed that innate connection she'd shared with Elliot. If they could get that back, it would mean the world to her. Especially at a time when it seemed like she was losing everything else. Yes, there was still a part of her that was upset with him for the way he had left, but after hearing his story yesterday, she had a better understanding of his reasons. It hadn't completely erased all the hurt she'd felt for so long, but it wasn't anything like what she had imagined. In a way, Olivia almost wished it had been like what she'd dreamed for him instead – that Elliot had been enjoying retirement, happy with his family, and had simply forgotten all about her. That was certainly a better alternative than what he'd endured.

"Liv? Olivia?"

Olivia blinked back into the present, aware that Elliot was calling her name, and apparently had been trying to get her attention for several minutes. From the looks of things, he'd already shed his jacket and his shoes.

"I'm sorry, Elliot. I zoned out for a minute. What is it?"

"I just wanted to know if you wanted me to make you something to eat. I didn't have breakfast before I left, and was going to be in the kitchen anyway."

Hoping her face remained impassive and wouldn't give her away, Olivia prepared for her lie.

"No, thank you, Elliot. I had a piece of toast when I got up. My plate is in the sink, I didn't get a chance to put it in the dishwasher yet."

Elliot nodded, relieved that she had at least eaten something. One day, he hoped that he could convince her to eat more than just toast for breakfast, but for now, he'd take whatever he could get.

"Would it bother you if I were to cook a bagel sandwich for myself? I don't know how sensitive your stomach is, and I wouldn't want any smells to make you feel sick."

"Go ahead, make whatever you want. I'll be fine."

Before doing anything for himself, Elliot offered to make Olivia another cup of tea. To his great surprise, she accepted. He was even more shocked when she'd told him that she hadn't been drinking the chamomile and peppermint blend that he'd given her the day before, but another flavored tea that seemed to be a favorite as well. Finding it easily, he reheated the water in the kettle while he was digging through the refrigerator for his breakfast ingredients.

After bringing Olivia her tea, Elliot focused on his meal. Even though she'd said the smells wouldn't bother her, he'd opted not to use bacon or sausage this morning. Instead, he'd chosen a simple ham slice that wouldn't have an overpowering aroma as it heated through. He was just popping the bagel in the toaster when something caught his eye – the crumb tray wasn't closed all the way. Pushing it shut, Elliot dismissed it without too much concern. It was only when he was putting the knife he'd used in the sink that his suspicions were raised again.

 _That was an odd assortment of crumbs on that plate to have come from just one piece of toast._ Elliot's musings morphed into a sinking feeling of dread as it dawned on him what Olivia had done. She hadn't eaten at all – instead, she'd simply emptied the crumb tray of the toaster onto a plate to make it look as though she had. What hurt worse was the fact that she'd felt the need to lie about it. Yes, he'd been absent from her life for several years, but he couldn't ever remember Olivia lying to him – other than telling him she was 'fine' at times she obviously wasn't. She'd omitted the truth on occasions in the past, like when she'd first learned about her brother Simon, or when she had been guardian to Calvin Arliss, but never had she openly lied to his face. It hurt more than he was willing to admit.

Knowing this wasn't the time to call her out on it, Elliot buried his feelings of hurt. Taking his bagel sandwich to the dining area, he opted to eat at the table as a precaution. Even though Olivia had said that the smells wouldn't bother her, he still didn't want to take any chances. He didn't delay too long over his meal, but also made sure that he didn't eat too fast, so as not to give himself heartburn. If he were being honest with himself, this was the first his appetite had bounced back after reading the horrendous details about what Olivia had gone through. So it would be a bit hypocritical on his part if he were to judge her for not wanting to eat. It wouldn't stop him from keeping an eye on her though. Lack of interest in food was one thing for a day or two, but if it became a habit, that would be definite cause for alarm.

* * *

Elliot knew he needed to talk to Olivia, but there was no way this conversation was going to be an easy one. He wasn't going to bring up his discovery in the kitchen, or even what he'd read the night before, but he did feel the need to address where he'd been this morning. They may have spent the last three years apart, but he could still read her, and her body language was telling him that she was feeling guilty about something. He'd bet almost anything that she blamed herself for his having needed to go to a meeting today.

Helping himself to another cup of coffee, he carried it with him into the living room, and took a seat on the opposite end of the couch. Though she had been feigning interest in the television, Olivia focused her gaze on him as soon as he'd returned to sit a few feet away from her.

"Liv, can we talk? I think I need to explain some things."

Elliot hoped that his words didn't come out in a way that made her feel pressured. That was the last thing he wanted. Though he wanted her to one day feel comfortable enough to confide in him about her experiences, he would wait as long as it took until she was capable of sharing those emotions. The sheer fact that she had opened up enough to let him in on the details had been overwhelming in itself.

"You can correct me if I'm misinterpreting things here, but I want you to understand something. I went to that meeting today for _me_. I haven't been to one for weeks – not since I left California. I was long overdue."

He had definitely captured her attention, Elliot noticed, but Olivia wasn't going to interrupt. She did however give an imperceptible nod, as though she were encouraging him to continue.

"I've been sober for a little over two years now. I'm not going to lie, it hasn't always been easy. But I'm committed to staying focused with the program, and I know the signs when I'm starting to slip backwards. I don't want you to have to worry about me, you need to focus on yourself right now."

Elliot was expecting to continue then, but to his surprise, Olivia held up her palm to stop him. Her voice was soft, but no less commanding.

"That's just it, Elliot. I _can't_ focus on myself right now. I know that's what Don sent me here to do, but if I try, I honestly think I'll self destruct. What I need is to get out of my head as much as possible."

Olivia licked her lips, pulling the blanket tighter around her.

"I know you had a lot of information to absorb from what you've read last night. I'm still not ready to talk about it with you. One day, I might be, just not today. But I can tell you this – if you're going to continue to stay here, the fussing has to stop. I'll go insane if it doesn't."

Though he didn't necessarily agree with the stipulations, Elliot was prepared to concede to them for the time being. It didn't mean he wouldn't still keep a watchful eye on her though. But he recognized that Olivia wanted the kid glove treatment to stop. He could respect that.

"Fair enough, Liv. I promise I'll respect your space. But you have to at least let me cook for you once a day, even if you don't eat much. I've become quite skilled in the kitchen since you saw me last."

Olivia shook her head. He'd been back in her life only a few days, and Elliot was already negotiating with her. To be fair, it wasn't quite an argument, so she couldn't call him out on it. Plus, she had to admit that cooking was something she didn't have the energy to expend effort on right now, either. Her appetite may still be limited, but maybe she could coax herself to eat something if the meals were already prepared.

"Fine. All I ask is that you don't push me."

"Deal."

Quiet settled between them, but the silence was a comfortable one. Then something else occurred to Elliot, but he didn't know if it was within his right to ask. Figuring Olivia could always tell him to shut the hell up if he was overstepping, he forged ahead anyway.

"Liv? Can I ask you something? It's a bit personal, so feel free to say no."

"How about you ask me the question first, and I'll decide after that."

Though Olivia's tone was a bit sarcastic, she'd had a slight smile on her face as she'd spoken, so Elliot wasn't as concerned as he'd been.

"How are you feeling this morning? I mean, you were supposed to start that medication last night, right? Did it help your sleep any?"

Initially, Olivia bristled at the query, then reminded herself that Elliot had already known about the prescription after yesterday's misunderstanding. He wasn't trying to be nosy, he was asking because he genuinely cared. Then again, if he really had been awake all night reading those files, he already knew that she hadn't slept, and had likely heard her screams. She supposed she should be grateful he wasn't calling attention to her night terrors, and decided to let it go. In a move that surprised both of them, she told the truth.

"I didn't take it. I just couldn't."

Elliot was about to ask why, when a flash of memory came to him. _Sleeping pills._ Though they weren't the same ones that had been prescribed to her, Lewis had forced her to take sleeping pills in addition to painkillers during the four days he'd initially held her captive. No wonder Olivia had an aversion to them, even if they had been given to her by a doctor. It also explained why the quantity had been so small.

"That's okay, Liv. You can always try again tonight, or tomorrow. If not, maybe your doctor can figure out another solution."

"Thanks. I don't know if you're right or not, but it means a lot that you said that."

Not wanting to press his luck, Elliot lapsed back into silence. A few minutes later, when Olivia suggested that they watch a movie, he nodded. Her next idea was that in the afternoon they go for a walk on the beach. Understanding her need to get out in the fresh air and away from the confines of the cottage for awhile, he quickly agreed. So long as he could keep her safe, he'd do anything she asked.


	5. Concerns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, I want to thank LivBensonStabler for previewing this chapter for me ahead of time, as I was having a serious crisis of conscience about it and doubting my own work. Second, I would like to wish her a very Happy Birthday, and dedicate this chapter to her as a gift. Hope you have an amazing day Maddy!

**Disclaimer: SVU and all of its characters were created by and are the property of Dick Wolf. I make no profit with this story, which is my own original work.**

* * *

For the third straight night in row, Elliot had been awakened by the sound of Olivia's screams. He wasn't sure what was worse – having been in the dark as to their cause – or knowing the full truth as to the driving force behind them. All he knew for certain was that she was still refusing his comfort. Yet again before going to bed tonight, she had reminded him that entering her room while she slept was not allowed.

As he pushed himself up into a sitting position in the bed, he scrubbed his palms over his face. They hadn't talked as much today as he would have liked, but the silence between them hadn't been uncomfortable, either. The one thing that still hurt to a degree was that Olivia was still addressing him by his full name – her only lapse having been the previous day on the beach when she'd asked him where he'd been. He wanted to hear her call him 'El' again in the worst way, but right now that was at the bottom of his list of concerns. Right now, he just wanted her to sleep through the night undisturbed.

He had other worries too, mainly in regard to her appetite. True to his promise, he hadn't pressured her until it was time to make dinner. Olivia had refused lunch, but had agreed to eat dinner – she'd even gone so far as to request he heat up some of the leftover soup for her. This time, Elliot had given her a little extra in the bowl, even though he knew he might be pushing his luck. When he was clearing the dishes, he figured that she'd managed to eat about one ladle full, which was almost twice the amount she'd had the day before. Sadly, it was also the only thing she'd eaten for the entire day. But he couldn't let her know that he knew that. He was still supposed to have believed that she'd had toast for breakfast.

Despite the fact that they had both wanted to, they hadn't gotten to take a walk on the beach today. An unexpected storm had blown in, and while it hadn't been an exceptionally bad one, the rainfall had kept them indoors. They'd passed the time watching movies, or rather, Elliot had watched movies. Olivia had stared blankly at the screen, and he couldn't say for certain if were to ask her, she would remember any of the plots of the films.

Tomorrow morning, they had plans to go running together, though Elliot hoped he would be able to encourage Olivia to take a leisurely walk instead. He was worried that she would be pushing herself to do too much too soon if she were to run at a fast pace. Yes, it was true she wasn't dealing with any physical injuries that would slow her down, but given the fact that she'd barely been eating, he was worried about the effect the exertion would have on her body. As it was, she'd mentioned tonight about eventually wanting to find a gym in the area, perhaps something with a kickboxing class. Granted, a gym was an appealing thought to him too, as he hadn't been a regular member at one since he was on the force. When he'd been living in California, Paul had had a home gym, not to mention the fact that the jobs he had worked had often been workouts in themselves. Still, he worried that she was going to overdo it.

Again Olivia's screams echoed through the house, and Elliot had to tamp down the urge to go to her. Looking at the clock on the bedside table, he noted that it was just after two in the morning. Usually, she would first start yelling out in her sleep around midnight. Was it really possible that she'd slept this long without a disruption, or had he actually slept through it the first time? He hoped it was the former, because the thought of it being the latter, even if he was forbidden to go to her, upset him more than he was willing to admit. Elliot felt like he had no right to sleep peacefully while Olivia was being tormented in her dreams.

Hearing movement in the hallway and on the steps, Elliot warred with himself internally. Should he follow her downstairs? He realized that it was likely that Olivia just wanted to be by herself right now, but he hated to leave her alone with her thoughts. The least he could do was offer to make her some tea. If she were to tell him to leave, he would respect her wishes.

After getting out of bed and pulling the tee shirt he'd been wearing earlier over his head – he'd been sleeping in his sweat pants just in case Olivia would need him during the night – Elliot opened his bedroom door and headed for the stairs. He made certain to make enough noise so that she would hear him coming, as the last thing he wanted to do was startle her. As he approached the bottom step, a bluish glow came into view, illuminating the living room. The television was on. Olivia was on the couch in her usual corner, lying on her side, curled up into a ball. She had the blanket wrapped around her, and it seemed yet again as though she were trying to make herself as small as possible.

"I know you're there, Elliot."

The volume was muted, so he heard her easily, even though her voice hadn't been much over a whisper. The exhaustion in her tone was evident. Even though he had more than a dozen questions on his mind, Elliot opted for the most important one of all – getting her permission.

"Do you want me to leave? Go back upstairs, I mean?"

He'd made certain to clarify, not wanting her to misinterpret his words and think he'd meant that he would be leaving the cottage, and ultimately _her_.

"You can stay."

Relaxing his stance slightly, Elliot took another step closer to the couch. It didn't escape his notice that while he had been put more at ease, it was Olivia who had inadvertently tensed up. In an effort to make her more comfortable, he decided to offer what he had come here for in the first place.

"Would you like me to make you some tea, Liv? Chamomile, perhaps?"

She didn't answer him verbally, but he caught her nod in the light coming from the flat screen on the opposite wall. Padding into the kitchen, he put the kettle on to boil. While he waited, an idea came to mind, and he sprinted upstairs for a moment, calling a 'be right back' over his shoulder.

When he reached his bedroom, he grabbed one of the pillows from the bed, in addition to his tablet. Hoping his idea would work, Elliot headed back toward the kitchen, arriving just as the kettle began to whistle. He poured water into two mugs, added the tea bags, then left them to steep. Once in the living room, he deposited his tablet on the coffee table so it would be within easy reach. Then, Elliot extended the pillow in his arms to a wary Olivia.

"What are you doing?"

"You're going to get a stiff neck if you lay with your head against the arm of the couch like that. Here, use this. At the very least, prop it behind your back to give yourself some support. I'll be right back with your tea."

* * *

By the time Elliot had returned with two steaming mugs of tea in his hands, Olivia had appeared to have followed his advice. She was still curled up in the far corner of the couch, but was now in a semi upright position. The pillow was behind her back, and the blanket was now thrown over her knees – which were in their customary position of being drawn against her chest. She had also taken notice of the tablet on the coffee table.

"Elliot, you really don't have to stay here with me. You can go upstairs and go back to sleep. I'll be fine."

Taking his seat on the couch, Elliot picked up the tablet and slouched down, propping his feet on the coffee table. Crossing his legs at the ankle, he used his thumb to turn on the electronic device in his hand.

"I'm not going anywhere. I brought this with me for a reason. I figured you wouldn't be able to relax right away, so I thought maybe you'd want to see some pictures I took with the kids when I was spending time with them."

While it wasn't exactly a smile that had appeared on Olivia's face just then, her eyes had brightened somewhat at the mention of his kids. Elliot took heart at the realization that Don had been right after all – the Olivia he knew and loved was still there. He'd known it was true, but the glimpses he'd been getting since he'd arrived had been so few and far between.

Pulling his photo album up on the screen, Elliot passed the tablet to Olivia. She set her tea on the coffee table, afraid of spilling it, and began scrolling through. The first in the series of images must have been taken Elliot's first night in Florida, as it showed Maureen and Kathleen together. Olivia observed that the photograph was a candid one, and it appeared as though their father had captured the sisters in the middle of laughing at something – likely one of his corny jokes.

She felt a bit wistful, remembering how the girls – now women - had been when she'd first met them almost sixteen years ago.

When she and Elliot had first become partners, Maureen had been fourteen, and Kathleen was nine. The twins were only five at the time. Eli hadn't even been born yet. Now, with the exception of his youngest, all of Elliot's 'kids' were adults. Maureen would have turned thirty this year, which would make Kathleen twenty five. Richard and Elizabeth had recently celebrated their twenty first birthdays, and that meant that Eli would be turning seven this coming November.

As Olivia continued to scroll through the photographs, she was filled with so many emotions. She had watched these children grow up – she'd even been present at Eli's birth, and had gotten to hold him before his own father. Then, the entire Stabler family had disappeared from her life just as Elliot had. Yes, she knew the reasons for it now, but it still didn't erase the hurt she had felt all those years ago. While she had always known that she never truly belonged, for the most part, Elliot and his kids had always made her feel welcome.

"Have you talked to them since you've been here?"

"I spoke to Kathleen the night I arrived. I plan to talk to her again tomorrow. I'm not going to tell her anything."

Olivia's sigh of relief was audible. Not that she'd ever believed for an instant that Elliot would betray her trust, or put those kinds of horrific details into his children's minds, but more because she was comforted. Even here, it brought her peace to know he was still in contact with his family. She hadn't taken that away from him.

Flipping through the rest of the images, Olivia continued to take in how wonderful the reunion with his children must have been for Elliot, how happy it must have made him. As long as she'd known him, his family had meant everything to him. That's why she was having such a hard time grasping the fact that he'd returned to New York City without them. Now, he was here in Cape May with her, and clearly didn't plan on going anywhere. Maybe after he'd been here a few weeks, she could try and encourage him to return to Florida, where he belonged. It would break her heart to lose him again, but he deserved to be with his family, and not fussing over her.

As Olivia focused on a photograph of Eli, she couldn't help but smile. He was beaming at the camera, showing off the fact that he was missing one of his top teeth. Even though things hadn't gone as he would have liked, she is relieved that Elliot got to spend some time with his youngest. She hoped that he will continue to pursue regaining his joint custody rights, because Eli needed his father in his life.

Before she even realized it, she'd reached the end of the pictures that Elliot has wanted to show her. Passing the tablet back, Olivia picked her tea up again. It was cool enough that she could drink it without burning her tongue. The aroma of the chamomile was soothing, and she breathed it in as she took a lengthy sip. The television had been playing an infomercial silently during the time they've been sitting, and as she glanced at the screen, Olivia caught sight of a particularly amusing demonstration. It didn't exactly feature the product they were trying to sell in the most flattering way, and she made a comment about that fact to the man sitting next to her.

"I'm glad you mentioned it, because I was over here trying my hardest not to."

They shared a laugh then, and for the first time since they'd been reunited, it was as if they could both feel some of the familiar ease returning between them. Yes, there would still be some awkward moments, and there were several conversations that still needed to be had, but for tonight at least, Olivia was comfortable with having Elliot near.

That is why when she used the powder room a short while later, and returned to find that he had rearranged the blanket and pillow on the couch, she wasn't upset. If anything, Olivia took heart at the gesture, and was overwhelmed at the emotions flooding through her. Normally, she would protest something like this – fight it tooth and nail and insist that she was fine – but they both knew she was anything of the sort. Elliot may have avoided bringing up the topic, but she knew he had heard her screaming in the night, and she knew that it had likely taken every ounce of his willpower not to go to her room.

The pillow she had been using was now laying flat on the couch, and Olivia knew that Elliot meant for her to stretch out and rest her head. She was immensely grateful he'd positioned things so that her feet would be near his legs, knowing instinctively that no matter how much she trusted him, if she were to wake up suddenly with her head in or near a man's lap, it would undoubtedly be a trigger.

"I thought you could make yourself comfortable, Liv. I can't promise you that you'll sleep, but at the very least, try and get some rest. You're not going to get that all curled up in the corner of the couch. If it would make you feel better, I can always sit on the floor."

Shaking her head, Olivia walked around the coffee table back to 'her' spot. She pulled back the fleece blanket that Elliot had arranged and lay down on her side. Instead of curling up completely as she usually did, she stretched one leg out until the sole of her foot was brushing against the side of Elliot's thigh. Content with that minimal amount of contact, she allowed the rest of her body to relax and closed her eyes.

Not more than a few seconds later, Olivia's eyes popped back open again. Quiet – it was too quiet. Grabbing for the remote on the coffee table, she increased the volume until the voices on whatever program was playing were at a gentle hum. Satisfied now, she dropped the remote back onto the table's surface with a clatter, and pulled the blanket up to her chin.

Sitting next to where Olivia lay, Elliot tried not to move a muscle, so as not to disturb her. He kept his hands folded together and resting on his stomach, almost afraid to breathe. Instead, he focused on Olivia's breaths, praying that they would even out and let him know that she had succumbed to a peaceful sleep at last. He considered tonight to be a milestone of sorts. She may not have confided in him any more, but she hadn't pushed him away, either. Moreover, she was letting him stay by her side while she slept, even with the chance that more nightmares could happen. Even though he'd been up all through the previous night, and had barely slept at all tonight, Elliot wasn't about to close his eyes any time soon.

* * *

A shriek of terror and a swift kick to his rib cage brought Elliot out of a fitful sleep. Ignoring the discomfort, he immediately turned his attention to Olivia. From what he could see in the light provided by the television, she was clutching at the blanket, and her face was distorted into a mask of pure fear. Though he longed to provide her with comfort, he didn't dare touch her, too worried that the contact would only escalate her nightmare. Instead, he began to call to her, hoping his voice would break through the horrors she was trapped within and bring her back to the present.

"Liv, Olivia – can you hear me? It's Elliot. I need you to wake up. I'm here with you, and you're safe."

"Elliot."

His name escaped her lips, but it wasn't in a form of recognition. This was more of a whimper. It broke his heart to see her this way, and for the first time, Elliot began to understand why Olivia had made the rules that she had. She hadn't just been preserving her own modesty, she'd done it to save him from feeling any guilt. Even now, after three years apart and having survived untold torment, she was still trying to protect him. It was likely the same reason why she'd given him the illusion yesterday morning that she'd eaten when she hadn't. Olivia was trying to keep him from worrying about her. Didn't she know that even a distance of nearly three thousand miles hadn't been able to prevent him from doing that? It certainly wasn't going to stop now that she was back in his everyday life.

A moan to his right caught his attention, and Elliot called to Olivia once more. When she finally began to stir, he kept quiet, allowing her her space. She adjusted positions, curling back up in the corner again with her knees pulled up against her chest. Unwilling to meet his gaze, she asked a question in a small voice.

"What happened?"

"Nothing happened. You were having a nightmare, so I tried to wake you. I didn't want to touch you, because I was worried I'd only startle you more, so I just kept talking to you."

Olivia was silent for several moments, trying to absorb what Elliot was telling her. Her anxiety was obvious in her body language.

"I didn't say anything out loud, did I?"

Knowing he had to be honest with her, Elliot told her the complete truth.

"The only thing I heard was you repeating my name when I told you who I was and that I was with you."

Olivia's relief was apparent. Still, she was ashamed that Elliot had had to see her in such a vulnerable state. Curious as to the time, she heard herself asking that very question out loud. When he told her that it was just after five in the morning, she didn't know what to think. Logically, she knew she should try and get more rest, but she didn't want to fall back to sleep on the couch. Plus, it wasn't fair to Elliot for him to sleep sitting up.

"I think I'm going to go back up to bed, try and sleep for a little while longer. I'll meet you down here again in a couple hours, that is if you still want to go for a run this morning?"

"That sounds good, Liv."

As she got up, Olivia made a motion to clean up their now empty mugs and carry them into the kitchen, but Elliot told her he would take care of it. Meeting her on the other side of the coffee table as she headed for the stairs, he dared to make contact with her. Offering her his hand, he waited for her to accept. When she did, he squeezed gently in a show of support, and reminded her he'd see her in a few hours.

Elliot watched Olivia go up the stairs, and waited until he could hear the sound of her bedroom door closing. Then, he went about cleaning up. After turning off the television, he carried the mugs into the kitchen, and deposited them into the sink. Stopping off in the living room one last time to retrieve his tablet and his pillow, he returned to his own bedroom. Not even bothering to remove his shirt, he crawled between the covers and rested his head on the pillow. He paused to say a brief prayer that Olivia's remaining hours of sleep would be peaceful ones, then drifted off himself.

It was seven thirty when he woke again, and while he hadn't exactly had a full night's sleep, his body felt adequately rested. Elliot got up and went through his morning routine, deciding to save his shower for after his run. Dressing in a pair of track pants and a tee shirt, he shrugged on a sweatshirt for additional warmth against the morning chill. It was still only April, and the breeze coming off the ocean tended to make the temperatures colder than what he had been used to.

Once he was downstairs, Elliot waged an internal battle with himself over whether or not he should brew a pot of coffee now, or wait until they got back from their run. Opting to wait, he drank a glass of orange juice instead. He also began searching through the cabinets and fridge for ideas on what to make for breakfast this morning. He was interrupted by the sound of footsteps on the stairs, and turned to see Olivia entering the kitchen to join him. She was already dressed for a run – leggings, and a long sleeved tee shirt that fell to mid thigh. She had a lightweight jacket draped over one arm, and her hair was pulled back away from her face into a ponytail.

"Morning, Elliot. I'm surprised to find you awake. When I didn't smell any coffee, I thought you might be sleeping still."

"Morning, Liv. I've been up for about the last thirty minutes or so. The only reason I didn't make coffee yet was because I knew we were headed out on a run. I'll definitely make a pot when we get back, though. Did you want something before we headed out? A glass of juice perhaps – or a granola bar?"

Olivia shook her head, indicating she wasn't interested. Elliot's lips set in a thin line as concern swept over him yet again, but he resisted the urge to say anything. He'd try again to suggest some food when they returned. Maybe if he were to make some breakfast, he could convince her to eat something. He was pulled from his thoughts when he realized she was speaking to him again, and noticed that Olivia was already waiting for him at the door to the cottage. Her jacket was on, and she appeared ready to go. Gulping down the last of his juice, he headed to join her. As they exited the cottage he posed a question.

"Did you want to run in any particular direction today?"

"I want to get a bit more familiar with the area before I attempt to run on the beach. I thought we could run past the lighthouse, and make a giant loop around all the houses in the area."

Elliot nodded. That was basically the same path he had traveled the day before. Olivia locked the door, and put the key into a hidden pocket in her leggings. Then, she zipped the jacket she was wearing up closer to her neck, and started jogging down the path to the sidewalk. By the time she'd neared the road, she was at a full out run. Elliot had to sprint in order to catch up to her. When his pace evened up with hers, he glanced to his side, catching her profile in his peripheral vision.

"Easy, Liv. It's not a race. If you want some space, all you have to do is tell me, and I'll back off, okay?"

The woman to his right gave him no hint that she acknowledged what he'd said, but her pace did gradually lessen. The expression on her face showed that she was intently focused – on what, he had no clue. Her eyes kept darting back in forth, as though she were constantly checking out her surroundings.

This was something that broke Elliot's heart to witness. As a cop, Olivia had always been aware of her surroundings – sweeping the scene for any sign of potential danger. So had he. But this, this was a form of hypervigilance that went to the extreme. Her body was coiled, tense, ready to fight off an attack that she expected to happen at any given second. The farther they ran, the faster her pace quickened, until the distance between them grew yet again. It was then that Elliot realized that Olivia wasn't running to ease her nerves, she was running as though she was being chased by a ghost – or a devil.

* * *

It was forty five minutes later that they returned to the cottage. Elliot had wanted to head back sooner, but Olivia had insisted on making one more loop past the lighthouse. She was determined to go with or without him, and he didn't want her running alone. Not when she had been eating so little the past few days. As it was, he was worried that she was pushing herself too hard.

Once they were inside the door, Elliot kicked off his shoes, and shed his sweatshirt. A part of him would have liked to have stripped off his tee shirt, too, but he didn't dare go that far. While it certainly wouldn't have been the first time that Olivia would have seen him shirtless, he didn't want to do anything that would make her uncomfortable.

For her part, Olivia shed her jacket as well, and deposited her own shoes by the door next to Elliot's. She could hear her pulse thrumming in her ears, a welcome reprieve from the usual cacophony of the echoes of her screams she usually heard on an endless loop. Either that or it was Lewis' raspy whisper taunting her about whatever way he was going to torture her next. Or, her favorite – the resounding click of the revolver as the empty chamber was revealed. No, given all those noises, she'd take the sound of her heartbeat any day. At least that way, she knew for certain that she was still alive – even if it felt like she was dying on the inside.

"Liv? Olivia?"

Elliot tried to get her attention, and when he succeeded, he passed her a glass of orange juice. Olivia resisted at first, until he reminded her that she'd had a lengthy workout, and needed to have something in her system to stabilize her blood sugar. Reluctantly, she accepted the glass and began to sip the liquid. As she did so, the pounding in her ears intensified, and her legs began to shake involuntarily. After setting the glass down on the counter, Olivia was aware that Elliot had taken a few steps closer. She held up her hand to tell him to back away, but her arms were trembling now, too. She tried to tell him to just give her a minute, that she would be fine, but the words just wouldn't come, and then her world went dark.

"LIV!"

Unable to help himself, Elliot cried out her name in a shout as he caught her in his arms before she hit the floor. He'd watched for several seconds, terrified, as her limbs had shook. Before he'd had a chance to tell her to go and sit down, her eyes had rolled into the back of her head and she'd passed out. Scooping Olivia's limp frame into his arms, Elliot carried her over to the couch and lay her down. Grasping her wrist gently, he used two fingers to measure her pulse. The beats were a bit erratic, but that could still be attributed to their run.

Elliot was torn over what to do, waging an internal war with himself. If he were to call for an ambulance, Olivia would certainly be furious with him. She may even kick him out. But if something were seriously wrong, he'd never forgive himself. She should have come around by now, and he knew that she'd barely been eating. Mind made up, he headed for the counter where he'd left his cell phone when a knock at the door got his attention.

At first, he was simply going to ignore it, but then Elliot realized that the person standing on the other side could see in the window. Not wanting them to get the wrong impression, he hurried to answer it. A man standing there smiled warmly.

"Good morning. I hope I'm not disturbing you, but I'm here to see Olivia. My wife wanted me to invite you both to dinner later this week."

More confused than ever, Elliot stared on in disbelief. How did this man know who he was? Moreover, how did he know Olivia? His puzzled expression must have given him away, for the man hurried to explain.

"I'm sorry, I should introduce myself. My name is Owen Winter. I'm the next door neighbor, and a friend of Don's. He told me that you would be coming up here to check on Olivia."

Elliot shook the other man's hand, his confusion abating for the moment. This had to have been the man Olivia had mentioned the other day, the one who had helped her carry in her things.

"I'll be sure to tell Olivia you dropped by. She isn't feeling well at the moment. We just got back from a run, and I think she overdid it."

Now, it was Owen who was concerned. Taking a step closer, he acted as though he wanted to come inside.

"Is she okay? I could take a quick look at her, as long as she wouldn't mind. I'm a retired army medic, and still assist for a branch of local EMS here."

Maybe this would be a better option, Elliot thought. He wouldn't have to break Olivia's trust by calling an ambulance, and she could still have someone look her over and make sure she was all right. If, for whatever reason, Owen determined that additional help was still necessary, then he would call. Never before had he been so indecisive when it came to Olivia, but the last thing he wanted to do right now was force her into another situation where she would feel trapped.

Stepping out of the way, Elliot allowed Owen entry into the cottage. With his arm, he indicated where Olivia was still unconscious on the couch.

"She passed out a few minutes ago when we got back from the run. Her pulse is strong, and her breathing has been good."

Owen rushed over to where Olivia lay, dialing his phone as he did so.

"Stacy honey? Can you bring my bag next door please? And hurry! Thank you!"

After hanging up, Owen sat on the edge of the coffee table and grasped Olivia's wrist in his hand. As he measured her pulse, he kept track of the beats by studying his wristwatch. He followed the same process to count her respirations per minute, watching as her chest rose and fell in even intervals. Turning to Elliot, he gave a few basic instructions.

"Can you grab a cold compress, a wet cloth, something like that? I want to try and cool her down some. She's not extremely overheated, but her cheeks are flushed."

"On it."

Elliot hurried off to do as Owen had asked, admonishing himself for not having thought about it in the first place. He'd been a police officer for over twenty years, and before that, in the military. Basic first aid had been ingrained in him for a long time. He should have known better.

Another knock at the door caught his attention as he was bringing a cold cloth over, and without thinking, he called out that it was open. A petite woman entered, with an exceedingly large duffel bag that was almost half her size slung over one shoulder. Elliot surmised that this must be Stacy. She carried it over to her husband, then left as quickly as she had come, giving a friendly wave on her way out. Elliot supposed she just hadn't wanted Olivia to feel overwhelmed or crowded when she regained consciousness.

Taking a stethoscope and sphygmomanometer out of his bag, Owen wrapped the velcro cuff around Olivia's upper arm and began to take her blood pressure. When he finished with that task, he shone a penlight in her eyes, checking the reaction of her pupils. Finally he tested the way the skin on the back of her hand responded when pinched slightly. That wasn't exactly a scientific method, but would go one step further in confirming his theory.

"I think she's just dehydrated, as well as exhausted. I can give her some fluids now, but you'll want to get her to eat and drink something when she wakes up. If she should pass out again, you should to take her to the hospital just to be safe."

Owen gave Elliot a few more instructions, including asking him to bring over the coat rack that was by the door. He also suggested that he cool down the compress once more for Olivia's forehead. By the time Elliot returned, an IV had been set up, and a bag of saline was hanging from the coat rack, flowing into Olivia's veins at a steady rate. This time, when he lay the cool cloth against her skin, her eyelids fluttered as she blinked into awareness. That was when panic set in. She wasn't alone – and there was a needle in her arm.

Flailing out, Olivia tried to sit up as fast as she could, ignoring the way the room tilted and spun around her. She reached with her opposite hand to the one with the needle, attempting to pull it out. Whatever he was trying to drug her with, she wanted no part of. That was when she heard a voice she recognized, and felt two hands hovering above her shoulders, but not actually touching her.

"Liv! Liv, it's me. It's Elliot. You're safe. You passed out after we got back from our run. Owen is here, he's helping you out. You just needed some fluids, you were a little dehydrated. You're going to be okay."

Turning her head to the side, Olivia opened her eyes fully. She felt her face flush with shame as she took in the sight of a man she had met only once before. But his eyes were kind, and there was nothing about his body language that added to her embarrassment. Instead, she found herself asking a question, curiosity getting the better of her.

"You're a doctor?"

"I was an army medic for several years. I'm retired now, but still volunteer my time with local services."

Humbled, Olivia didn't quite know what to say. Eventually, she managed a thank you, then allowed Elliot to prop her up with a couple of pillows that he had brought down from his bedroom. Owen, who had keenly observed Olivia's behavior, tried to do whatever was necessary to make her comfortable.

"It will take approximately an hour for the entire bag to empty, Olivia. If you'd like, I can leave and come back to collect my things later. That will give you a chance to relax."

"If you're sure it won't be a problem."

Owen assured her it wouldn't be, and that he would give Elliot his phone number, in case she should experience any discomfort at the site where the needle had been inserted into her vein. Then, as he stood to leave, he offered one final bit of advice, something that Olivia didn't necessarily want to hear.

"Make sure you eat something. The fluids will combat the dehydration, but you want to keep your blood sugar balanced so you don't pass out again."

It was Elliot who chimed in before she had a chance to argue.

"I'll make her some breakfast as soon as you leave, I promise. Let me walk you out."

* * *

After seeing Owen out, Elliot came back inside the cottage. It didn't escape his notice that Olivia was avoiding any and all eye contact. He figured that even though he hadn't taken her to a hospital, she was still angry with him for involving someone else. That was fine. She could be as mad at him as she wanted, so long as she would be all right. In fact, he suspected he was about to incite her ire again, because this time he wasn't going to listen to her 'I'm not hungry' excuse. Even Owen had said that she _needed_ to eat something. It wasn't a matter of preference at the moment – it was medically necessary.

"Okay, Liv - what do you want for breakfast?"

"Elliot..."

It was just as he had figured. Of course she would appear fine and cooperative when there was a stranger around, but now that it was just the two of them, she was prepared to fight. Well, so was he. It didn't mean that his empathy for what she'd been through had lessened, but the adrenaline was still pumping through Elliot's veins at having witnessed Olivia's collapse. The last thing he wanted was for that to happen again.

"Let me rephrase that. I'm _making_ you breakfast, I'm just asking you what you prefer to eat. Do you want pancakes? Or would you prefer to have eggs and toast?"

The fire flamed in Olivia's eyes at his challenge, and it was the first true sign of life he'd seen in her since his arrival. He'd take it. He'd gladly take her anger – even if it was directed at him – any day over seeing the shell of a woman his partner had become. Yes, he understood that she'd been through not just one, but two traumas in a short period of time, but it wasn't like Olivia to just give up. He was willing to do whatever necessary to help, but she had to want it.

"Fine. I'll have one scrambled egg, and one piece of toast."

" _Two_ eggs. You need to eat, Olivia."

Olivia punched the back of the couch with the side of her fist in frustration. Why was he so determined to start a fight with her on this? Part of her wanted to say 'screw it' and not eat anything. But after her scare this morning, the last thing she needed was to end up in the emergency room. In an unfamiliar town, that would only lead to more questions that she didn't want to answer. She supposed she should be grateful that Owen had been able to help her out the way that he had. Turning back to Elliot and hating that her diet had become a negotiation, she tried again.

" _One_ egg, a piece of toast, and a yogurt."

Conceding the fact that she was actually trying to cooperate with him, Elliot nodded his head in confirmation. That would work – for now. It didn't mean they wouldn't verbally spar again later in the day when he wanted her to eat again, though.

"Deal. Did you want cheese in your scrambled egg?"

"Only if you want me to eat it."

Now _that_ was the sarcastic Olivia that he knew so well. Shaking his head to himself, Elliot headed for the kitchen. As an afterthought, he returned briefly to the living room to bring Olivia her unfinished glass of juice from before – which he'd topped off a bit. He'd hoped she hadn't noticed. If she had, she hadn't said anything about it. On his way back out to the kitchen, he asked her if she wanted coffee with breakfast, or if she would prefer tea to drink. To his surprise, she was opting for coffee this morning.

About twenty minutes later, Elliot was bringing over a plate and a steaming mug of coffee for Olivia. He hoped she wouldn't notice that he'd given her slightly more than one egg worth to eat – he'd mixed several together in a bowl to cook in the same skillet – but if she had, she didn't say anything to him. Included with her egg was a piece of lightly buttered toast and a container of strawberry yogurt.

By the time he returned with his own food, Elliot realized that Olivia had yet to take a bite. Instead, she was clutching her fork tightly in her fist, and eyeing the items on her plate warily, as though they were an unforeseen enemy that must be watched at all times. Calling to her gently, he tried to draw her out of her trance.

"Liv."

Her troubled gaze shifted to meet his, and there was an imperceptible tremble in her lower lip. For the first time, Elliot truly understood. This wasn't just about a refusal to eat – she was honestly struggling when it came to facing food. Trying to lessen the hurdle for her, as the task she was trying to accomplish likely seemed insurmountable, he offered a gentle reminder.

"It's just breakfast Liv. Start with a few small bites, and take it from there. Did you want me to separate things for you?"

"No."

Even though she'd answered in the negative, Olivia had been deeply touched by Elliot's offer. At the same time, she'd also been embarrassed. This is one of the reasons why she'd been refusing to eat. She'd lost control over everything else in her life lately – her job had nearly been taken away, then she'd been forced into a mandatory leave of absence, not to mention the fact that she couldn't remember the last time she'd had a decent night of sleep. Food was the only remaining factor in her life that she was responsible for that no one could tell her what to do or when to do it. It hadn't helped matters any that given everything that had happened, her appetite had been practically non existent. For someone else to know – let alone understand – her motives was humiliating.

Taking the tiniest bite of egg, Olivia chewed carefully before swallowing. She wanted to be sure she wouldn't experience the familiar feeling of her throat wanting to close up that sometimes happened when she ate after being upset. When that didn't happen, she tried another tentative bite, then another. Eventually, she added some toast into the mix. When she had finished with the hot food on her plate, she turned to the yogurt. Already, her stomach was trying to signal to her brain that she was full, but she had promised Elliot that she would eat, and she hated to break her word.

After she'd eaten a little less than half the container of yogurt, Olivia knew there was no way she could eat any more, promise or no promise. If she were to try, she feared she'd make herself sick. Setting the spoon down, she turned to Elliot to try and explain, only to find him watching her.

"It's all right, Liv."

Clearing both dishes away, Elliot disappeared into the kitchen for a few minutes. When he returned, it was to collect their empty coffee mugs and Olivia's juice glass. Glancing at the bag of saline that was still hanging from the coat rack, he estimated that there was still about another twenty minutes to go before Owen would return. Turning on the television, he found something to tune into to help pass the time.

An hour later, Owen had come and gone, and Olivia was feeling much better. He'd even told her it was okay to shower so long as she wasn't feeling lightheaded anymore. Just before leaving, he'd remembered what he had come over to the cottage for in the first place – to invite Elliot and Olivia over for dinner one evening the following week. Not sure what to say just yet, Olivia had merely told the man who'd helped her that she'd have to think about it.

She'd taken her shower awhile ago, and now Olivia was just waiting for Elliot to join her downstairs. Even though she'd assured him it wouldn't be a problem, he had wanted to wait until she was finished before taking his own turn at cleaning up. She reasoned that she couldn't blame him, she had after all passed out on him, it was understandable that he'd still be worried. She'd just have to be sure not to push herself so hard the next time they went running – which wouldn't be until at least the day after tomorrow. Owen had made her promise to take a day off from exercise, unless it was a leisurely walk.

Now that everything from this morning had fully sunk in, Olivia was feeling embarrassed beyond belief. She wanted nothing more than to run away – to escape from it all, even for just a little while. Deciding to do just that, she left a brief note for Elliot. She didn't tell him where she was going, only because she didn't even know herself. All she stated was that she needed some time to clear her head, and that she'd be back as soon as possible. Then, without even bothering to grab her jacket to protect herself against the chill in the air, Olivia slipped on her shoes and left the cottage.

* * *

Elliot returned to his bedroom after his shower, realizing that he'd taken longer than he'd originally planned. He felt a little guilty for leaving Olivia by herself for so long, but realized she probably appreciated the solitude after everything that had happened this morning. The last thing she would want right now is him hovering. Glancing around at the clutter that surrounded him, he made a promise to himself that tonight before falling asleep, he would try and unpack some of his belongings and get settled in somewhat. Now that it had pretty much been decided that he would in fact be staying here indefinitely, he could stop living out of his bags.

Since they had no plans to go anywhere else today, he decided to dress casually, opting for a pair of sweats and a tee shirt. Heading back downstairs, Elliot took note of the fact that Olivia's bedroom door was open. She must have forgotten to close it when she went downstairs earlier, and he thought about doing it for her, but didn't want to overstep. If for any reason he needed to come back upstairs for anything, he could always ask her about it then.

As he neared the bottom step, the uneasy feeling that had been in the pit of his stomach ever since he'd left the shower only increased in intensity. At first, he had dismissed it as leftover adrenaline from what had happened when Olivia had fainted this morning. But this was something else entirely. Something was wrong. Retirement didn't negate twenty plus years of instinct. That was something that couldn't be turned off. Running down the remaining few steps, Elliot felt his heart sink when he realized he was alone in the cottage. Olivia was nowhere to be found, and to make matters worse, there was no way of telling how long ago she'd left, either.

Even though he had no clue of what direction to go in, he was going to go after her. As he made his way to the counter where he'd left his keys, Elliot spied a note that Olivia must have left behind. His newfound relief was only temporary though, upon reading the words on the page.

_Elliot – I needed to get away for awhile and clear my head. Whatever you do, don't try and find me. I don't know where I'm going, only that I can't be here right now. Try not to worry, I promise I will be back. - Olivia_

Torn between following his gut and obeying her wishes, Elliot warred internally with himself for several minutes. That feeling only intensified when he spied Olivia's jacket hanging on the coat rack – which hadn't been moved from its position by the couch. It was likely why she'd forgotten it in her current distracted state. Heading to the door, he looked out, and was momentarily relieved when he saw that her SUV was still parked in the driveway. Wherever she had gone, she'd headed there on foot. Although given her weakened state, that may not be the best idea. Looking at his watch, he determined he could give her another twenty minutes. If she wasn't back by then, he would go looking for her.

Despite his promises to himself, Elliot hadn't been able to hold out another five minutes. Before he left the cottage, he ran upstairs to grab one of his hooded sweatshirts, knowing that by the time he found her, Olivia would likely be in need of some warmth. The light jacket she had worn this morning just wouldn't be enough.

Outside the cottage, and operating solely on instinct, Elliot tried to figure out where Olivia may have gone to. As far as he was aware, she didn't know anyone in this town, so that ruled out other people's homes. There also weren't any cafes or coffee shops nearby that he knew of, so she couldn't have gone there, either. No, he was guessing that she had gone to one of two places – the lighthouse they had run past on several loops this morning, or the beach where they had eaten lunch the other day when he had told her about where he'd been.

Opting to head for the beach first, as it was closer, Elliot took off at a steady pace. He wasn't exactly running, but he wasn't walking slowly either. The last thing he wanted was to make it look like he was in a panic – even though he actually was – in case he should meet up with Olivia on her way home. As it was, he'd likely have to explain himself when he found her.

Making his way down onto the beach, Elliot felt relieved when he spotted a lone figure sitting in almost the exact same spot where he had been with Olivia the other day. As he hurried over to her, the closer he got, the more obvious it became that she was shivering. Not wanting to frighten her by appearing suddenly by her side, he called out to her as he approached.

"Olivia"

He watched as her shoulders sagged, and her head dropped forward. Clearly, she wasn't pleased with his arrival. There was nothing he could do about it now, he was just glad that she was safe. Coming to stand behind her, Elliot carefully draped the hooded sweatshirt he had brought around Olivia's shoulders, touching her as little as possible. To his surprise, she accepted the extra layer of warmth, and shrugged into the hoodie, slipping her arms inside the sleeves.

"Thank you. You can go now."

"Liv -"

"You found me Elliot. I'm obviously still conscious, so there is nothing for you to worry about. I told you I needed some time to myself, and that I'd be back when I was ready. Can you please respect that?"

Her voice had a sharp edge to it, and he'd be lying to himself if he'd have said her words hadn't stung. He didn't want to push her, but he couldn't help but be worried. When he tried to explain that though, he wasn't expecting it to backfire on him in such a big way.

"If you were that worried, you could have called me. You do remember how phones work, don't you? Oh, that's right – you don't."

Elliot recoiled as though he'd been slapped in the face. This was the reaction he'd anticipated when he'd first arrived. The venom that Olivia was spewing in his direction cut deep, but he tried to remind himself of what she'd been through – not just in the past year, but in the last several hours. Not to mention that he'd all but turned her life upside down again by showing up unexpectedly a few days ago. In his mind, she was entitled to be upset with him. Even so, that didn't mean he was willing to just leave her here alone. Not when she'd narrowly avoided a trip to the emergency room this morning.

Uncomfortable with leaving, but still wanting to give Olivia some space, Elliot moved a short distance down the beach before sitting down in the sand. This action did not go unnoticed, and only served to infuriate the brunette even more.

"What the hell do you think you're doing? I told you I wanted to be alone!"

"Then you can just pretend I'm not here, Olivia, because I'm not going anywhere. Less than three hours ago, you collapsed in my arms from a combination of dehydration, exhaustion, and over exertion! I'm willing to give you your space, but I'm not leaving you alone. I don't care how mad you get at me for it, either."

Olivia looked like she wanted to argue the issue further, then must have decided it wasn't worth the effort. Instead, she shifted and turned her back on him, returning her gaze back to the horizon over the ocean. As much as she hated to admit it, his presence did give her a sense a of security that she hadn't felt before – and she was able to give in to the thoughts that were consuming her and get lost in them for the first time in ages.

* * *

They'd been sitting there for over an hour, neither of them speaking, when Elliot finally made a decision. Clouds were hanging thick overhead, and the wind blowing in off the waves was growing more intense. He could smell the rain in the air, and after everything that had happened today, the last thing he wanted was for Olivia to get caught in it.

Pushing himself into a standing position, he crossed the sand to where she sat, calling to her as he approached. He pretended not to notice the way Olivia swiped at her eyes before focusing her gaze on him, not wanting to call attention to the fact that he knew she'd been crying.

"I don't mean to rush you, Liv, but it looks like it's going to start pouring any minute now. We should head back."

Olivia, who by now was even more weary than she had been earlier, nodded her head in agreement. All the fight from before had left her. Granted, she was still angry and frustrated with Elliot for having followed her, but she didn't have the energy to deal with it at the moment. When Elliot extended a hand to her to help her stand, she gratefully accepted. As soon as her hand was in his, Elliot gasped in alarm. Her fingers were like ice.

"Olivia! You're freezing! Why didn't you say something sooner?"

"I'm not cold."

Her voice was hollow, numb almost. He'd heard that tone before, but after the other events of the day, it only worried him more. He wanted to wrap his arms around her in the worst way, and pull her close to his body, but he didn't think she'd appreciate the gesture. Worse yet, he feared the contact might be triggering. The look in Olivia's eyes right now was distant, and it made him want to get her back to the cottage more than ever. It was clear whatever thoughts she'd been lost in while sitting out here had consumed her.

"Come on, when we get back to the cottage, I'll make you some hot tea."

Elliot didn't want to say what else was on his mind – that when they got back he wanted her to eat something again. That would surely bring Olivia's emotions back to the surface and incite her fury once more. The last thing he needed was her taking off again, just when the sky was about to open up. He'd save that conversation for when they were behind closed doors.

Without a word, they made their way back to the cottage, and no sooner than they had stepped inside and had shut the door behind them, the rain began to fall in earnest. More grateful than ever that he had convinced her to come back, Elliot turned his attention to trying to warm Olivia up further.

"Why don't you go have a seat? I'll bring you over some tea."

"Stop fussing over me!"

Olivia tore the hooded sweatshirt he had given her at the beach off herself, tossing it at him angrily. It hit Elliot square in the chest, falling to the floor before he could catch it. He was just so stunned at the outbursts he was witnessing today. Yes, he had expected her to be angry at him to a degree, but nothing to this extent.

"I'm going upstairs to my room to be alone. I _can_ do that without you following me, can't I?"

Not sure what to say, Elliot found himself stammering a bit in his response.

"I...yes...of course. I never meant to intrude, Liv. I was just worried about you."

"I lived my life for three years without your worry. I don't need you reminding me now that you had to come to the rescue because you think I'm incapable of taking care of myself."

The words had an eerily familiar quality to them, and they hurt deeply. He remembered the time when he had shouted something similar to her in the heat of the moment. It had been in the aftermath of an incident during the Gitano case, eight years into their partnership. Olivia's throat had been slashed with a knife, and because he'd run to her first, an innocent child actually had been killed. The fallout from that had been extensive, and though they'd managed to get their dynamic back eventually, he couldn't help but wonder now if they'd ever fully recovered.

Olivia marched up the stairs, and the door to her room slammed shut behind her, emphasizing her anger. Elliot figured he'd give her some space as she had requested, but still couldn't stop the nagging sensations in his mind. Had he pushed her too far today? He didn't really feel that he had, but then again, he'd been known to be an asshole in the past. Considering that his first instinct this morning had been to rush her to the emergency room when she'd fainted, he felt he'd found a good alternative. What was he supposed to have done, just sat around and done nothing while he waited for her to wake up? Elliot realized that he never had actually explained things, but then again, he'd never gotten the chance. When he'd come downstairs after his shower hoping to talk, Olivia had been gone. Maybe he could have been more respectful of her wishes, and he supposed that had she not fainted only hours before, he likely would have been. Coupled with the fact that she'd left without any protection against the April temperatures, he still felt that his actions had been justified.

Maybe that was part of the problem, Elliot reasoned. It wasn't a matter of him being right or wrong. Once again, Olivia had had her control taken away from her. She'd set out to do something for herself, and he'd charged in like someone with a white knight complex attempting to rescue her. No matter what her state of mind was these days, it didn't negate the fact that Olivia was an adult. She deserved to be treated with respect, and not like a child. In trying so hard to take care of her, he'd inadvertently been attempting to parent her, and not treating her like the woman who had been his partner for thirteen years. Once again Cragen's words resounded in his ears.

_The Olivia you know and love is still there, Elliot. Just remember that._

Heading upstairs, Elliot grabbed his tablet and brought it back to the living room. As he settled on the couch, a chime from his phone caught his attention. It was a text from Kathleen, who was on her lunch break at work. She was asking if he still wanted to have a video call later tonight. Without hesitation, he typed back his affirmative response. It would be good to talk to his daughter later. Yes, he'd undoubtedly have to field a few questions about Olivia, but he figured he could deflect those easily enough. He didn't want his children to find out what Olivia had been through if he could help it - for both her sake and theirs.

Logging on to his email, he noticed a message from Paul, who had been wondering where he'd gotten settled since he'd heard from him last. Feeling a bit overcome by guilt, Elliot realized that he'd failed to contact his friend ever since he'd left Florida the week before. Thankfully, Paul had just figured he'd been busy trying to find a place to live, and had not assumed the worst. He quickly typed out a reply, complete with his new – well, old - number, and promised he would be in touch soon.

Closing out his email, Elliot pulled up a digital copy of a book he'd been reading, and tried to focus. It wasn't an easy task, as his mind was still on Olivia, but he was going to try his best to give her some of the space that she'd asked for. If he didn't hear from her in a couple of hours, he would knock on her door and check on her. Plus, soon he would need to start figuring out what to plan for dinner. The soup he'd made the other day was all gone, and he needed to come up with another hearty but simple meal that would be easy for Olivia to eat.

By the time Elliot had read several chapters in his book, Olivia had yet to return. It was long past lunchtime now, and the clock was edging closer toward late afternoon. He hated to think about how she'd missed another meal. Wanting to check on her, but not wanting to make her angry, he remembered her words from the beach earlier today. Reaching for his phone, he sent a brief text message, even though they were only a floor apart.

_You awake? I'm sorry about earlier, but I want to make it up to you. Can you come downstairs so we can talk?_

Five minutes passed, then ten, with no response. With his concern increasing, Elliot climbed the steps to listen outside Olivia's bedroom door. It was possible that she had just fallen into a deep sleep when she'd gone into her room earlier, the day having taken its toll on her, but he wasn't taking any chances. Dialing her number, he brought the phone to his ear, and hoped she would answer. Instead, all he heard from beyond the door was a distant ringing noise – and nothing else.

Wrapping his palm around the doorknob, Elliot took a deep breath. He realized that what he was about to do amounted to a total betrayal – a complete invasion of privacy – but he couldn't turn off that feeling in his gut that was telling him something was wrong. Praying that she hadn't locked it, he sighed in relief as the latch gave way, and the door swung inward. As his eyes swept the scene in front of him, his relief quickly turned to dread. Just as when he'd returned to the lower level this morning, Olivia was nowhere to be found. Instead, the window on the far side of the room was open, curtains blowing in the breeze. Racing across the floor to peer outside, Elliot took note of the tree adjacent to the cottage, and deduced that Olivia must have climbed down the trunk to the ground before taking off into the unknown once more.

* * *

"Dammit, Olivia"

Elliot cursed under his breath as reality sank in that she was gone – again. Spying her phone sitting on the nightstand, he knew there would be no way of reaching her now. It was either repeat this morning's events of going out to look for her himself, or wait for her to come back on her own.

He was turning to head out of the room when he heard a sound of frustration, followed by a dull slapping sound. Turning around sharply, Elliot watched as one hand, then another appeared over the window's ledge.

"Liv!"

He shoved his phone into his pocket as quickly as possible, then rushed to the window, grabbing her wrists to assist her inside. Olivia cried out at the contact, and Elliot cursed himself immediately. He hadn't thought his plan through. However, considering she was dangling two stories above the ground, there was no time right now to apologize. Shifting his hold so he was grasping her just under the arms, he hoisted Olivia over the edge and into the room. Her feet were barely on the floor when she was shoving him away, her face a mask of fury.

"Elliot? What the fuck are you doing in my room?"

Elliot rubbed his palm over the back of his neck as he tried to find the words that would best explain his actions.

"It had been hours since I'd seen you. You didn't answer my text, you weren't answering your phone when I called you -"

"And what? You thought that gave you the right to just come barging into my personal space?"

For the first time since she'd set foot back inside the cottage, Elliot studied the woman standing across from him. Though to be fair, he hadn't had much time to study her before, because she'd been hanging outside of window! Pushing that thought aside, his eyes swept over her form. There wasn't a part of her that wasn't soaking wet, and her hair clung to her face and neck. Water was dripping from her body, pooling into puddles at her feet. She was shaking from head to toe, whether it was from cold or a lingering effect of the way he'd grabbed her so suddenly, he didn't know.

"Liv, you're soaked. Let me get you a towel so you can dry off and warm up."

"Just stop it! I told you this morning to stop fussing over me! Why couldn't you listen? I'm not one of your daughters!"

Despite his reminding himself to keep his temper in check, and that what she needed most was understanding, Elliot felt his own anger flare at that moment.

"No? You're sure as hell acting like one of them! Seriously, Olivia? Sneaking out a window? Maureen pulled that stunt when she was fifteen!"

"Get out."

Olivia's voice had gone deathly quiet, but there was an eerie quality behind her demand. Even though she was the one who was drenched and cold, it was Elliot who shivered. Almost immediately, he tried to make amends. The last thing he'd wanted was to provoke a fight with her.

"Liv, please. I'm sorry. Look, I'll leave you alone, okay? I'm going, and I won't step foot in your room again."

"I didn't mean get out of my room – I want you out of this house. I don't want you here anymore. This isn't going to work out. Go back to Florida with your kids where you belong."

As the words registered, Elliot's heart began to crack, on the verge of shattering into a million pieces. She couldn't possibly mean what she was saying. He'd upset her yes, but there was no way she would cut him out of her life, would she? Not after he'd just found her again.

"Liv, please -"

He tried again, desperate now, and not even caring if it sounded like he was begging. Truth be told, he was. He'd get on his knees if it would help Olivia understand just what she meant to him. Plus, there was no way he could ever walk away from her now, especially knowing what she'd been through. He'd never forgive himself. He still hadn't forgiven himself for having left the first time.

"And another thing – stop calling me 'Liv'. You lost the right to do that when you walked out of my life three years ago. Now I want you gone within the hour. You can leave your key on the kitchen counter."

With that said, she stalked past him, bending at the waist to grab a few items from an open suitcase on the floor. Then, without so much as a backward glance, she went into the bathroom and slammed the door behind her. The click of the lock sounded so final, and Elliot found himself flinching involuntarily as a result.

Knowing there was no use trying to reason with Olivia in her present state, he decided he would have to do as she asked. Except for the part about going to Florida. There was no way he was going to leave her alone in Cape May, not in her present condition. If she wanted some space for a few days, he'd give it to her – albeit reluctantly. He'd find a nearby motel and stay there instead.

As he headed back into the bedroom that had only been 'his' for the span of a few days, he couldn't help but think to himself of how he had planned to unpack his belongings that night before going to bed. Hoping that sometime soon he'd get another chance, he shoved things back into his bags, then one by one carried them down the stairs and deposited them by the door. Making sure he didn't forget his tablet, he grabbed that from where it still rested on the coffee table, and packed that as well. Part of him wanted to wait until Olivia was out of the shower before leaving, but knew his presence wouldn't be welcome. With a heavy heart, he slipped the key to the cottage off his key ring and set it on the counter top, just as she had requested.

Elliot had just finished packing all the bags in the back of his SUV when he heard a voice calling to him. Turing to look over his shoulder, he saw Owen Winter approaching. The two men shook hands, and then Owen explained his presence.

"I was just coming over to check on Olivia, see how she's feeling after this morning. What's going on man? From what Don said, I thought you'd be here for the long haul."

Not sure what to say, especially to someone who was basically a stranger, Elliot fumbled for words. Then he watched as Owen's expression morphed into one of kindness and understanding. Though the man was at least five years younger than him, if not a few more, there was an unspoken bond there. No doubt it had been forged by their mutual service in the military. Though they had each been in different branches, that duty and honor was a quality they both upheld.

"I don't know Olivia personally, but Don always talked about her – and you. It's like you two are the kids he never had. He and Eileen were just getting settled when he took off back to New York, insisting that he was needed there. That's when he said that someone else would likely be living in the cottage for awhile."

Elliot was silent, unsure of what to say. But he was curious as to how much Owen knew of Olivia's story, so he nodded, indicating that the other man should continue.

"I'm not proud of it, but I looked up some of the news out of Manhattan. I don't know all the details, but I know she's been through hell. Even if I hadn't, I've been in enough combat zones in my life to know PTSD when I see it. She needs you now, more than ever."

Elliot felt something flare within him, but to his surprise, he wasn't angry – he just felt weary. Fighting back the emotion, he struggled to say the words, almost as though he still couldn't grasp the fact of what had happened less than forty five minutes ago.

"I'm not leaving willingly. She kicked me out. I hate to go, but I fear I'd only make it worse if I stayed right now."

Always perceptive, Owen immediately picked up on the 'right now' in Elliot's statement.

"You'll be back then?"

"Of course. I'm just going to give her a couple of days to cool off. She's in no condition to be left alone."

Scratching his chin, Owen thought something over, wondering if he was overstepping. He'd only met Olivia the other day, after all, and had just been introduced to Elliot this morning. But he wanted to help.

"I can look in on her, if you'd like. I'll give her the rest of today to herself, but tomorrow I can take over a covered dish or something. It will easily be seen as a 'welcome to the neighborhood' gesture. Plus I can use the excuse of checking in on her after what happened today."

"Thank you, that would be great. If there is an emergency, will you call me?"

"Of course. Plus, Don gave me a key, too. I look in on the house when he's away."

Shaking Owen's hand again, Elliot decided he'd better leave. The last thing he'd need would be for Olivia to look out the window and find him still here. Worse yet, she'd think he was conspiring to have the neighbor spy on her – even if that's basically what he was doing. Opening the driver's side door, he climbed in behind the steering wheel and put on his seat belt. Then with one last glance at the cottage, he backed out of the driveway, and headed toward town, fighting off tears as he drove away.

It wasn't until much later that night while Elliot was preparing for bed that something occurred to him. When he had been driving to the motel earlier, the skies had been clear. That meant that the rain that had fallen when they got back from the beach must have been short lived. How then, did that explain Olivia's drenched appearance when they had been standing in her bedroom? Ice began to spread through his veins as realization sank in. There was only one logical explanation, and the awareness of that made him want to drive back to the cottage right then and there, even though it was almost midnight. The only conclusion he could come to was that Olivia had to have walked into the ocean fully dressed – and far enough to have been able to submerge her head. With those images flooding his mind, Elliot knew he was in for yet another sleepless night.


	6. Darkness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Many thanks go out to LivBensonStabler for previewing this for me ahead of time. Go check out her stories, she's an amazing author! Also would like to thank the girls in my group chat for all of their support, you ladies give me reassurance when I am doubting myself, my writing wouldn't be the same without all of you!

**Disclaimer: SVU and all of its characters were created by and are the property of Dick Wolf. I make no profit with this story, which is my own original work.**

* * *

Olivia opened her eyes at the sound of her alarm blaring, unsure if she'd actually gotten any rest or not. She had gone to bed early the previous night, opting to skip dinner and just lie under the blankets watching television until sleep eventually claimed her. Ever since she'd emerged from her bathroom the day before to find that Elliot actually had left, she'd been overwhelmed by a mixture of relief and guilt. That was in addition to the myriad of emotions that consumed her on a daily basis. Maybe that was why she preferred the numbness some days over others – feeling things just hurt too much. It was easier to just exist in her cocoon and let the world carry on around her without having to participate.

As she lay there, trying to suppress the memories of yesterday's fight with Elliot, Olivia pressed the heels of her palms against her eyes. How would she ever be able to manage to pull herself together in time for her appointment with Dr. Lindstrom in a few hours? It was bad enough the psychiatrist would be wanting to know how things were going with her new prescription, and she hadn't even taken a single tablet yet. She just couldn't. Though the zolpidem tartrate wasn't anything like the sleeping pills William Lewis had given her during the first four days he'd held her captive, her brain still wouldn't allow her to take them. As it was, she could barely bring herself to swallow the citalopram on a nightly basis. She only took Tylenol when it was absolutely necessary, and even then she nearly choked on the capsules. Medication of any kind was triggering for her now, but she hadn't actually admitted that to anyone. How could she?

Dragging herself from the bed, Olivia glanced at the clock again, trying to determine if she had enough time to go for a run. That was when she remembered that Owen had told her to take a break from exercise today. Would he really know if she didn't? It wasn't as though Elliot was here to tattle on her. She wondered how far he was to Florida by now. Though his leaving had hurt, she knew she'd done the right thing in sending him away. He shouldn't have to see her so broken. Already she had her regrets over having let him read her files. Not about sharing her truth – but the aftermath it had caused. He'd needed a meeting. He'd only been back in her life for a few days, and already she had compromised his sobriety. That was something she couldn't deal with. It had been hard enough growing up knowing she'd been the reason her mother drank. She wouldn't be the cause for Elliot falling off the wagon and back into the bottle, too. If he were to stay, and continue to witness her downward spiral, that's what would happen, and she simply couldn't live with that.

After a shower and finding some clothes to wear – not that it mattered, it wasn't as though she had anywhere to go – Olivia trudged downstairs. She brought her tablet with her, free to have her video appointment anywhere now that she had the house to herself. Having no desire to eat, and no one to pressure her, she put the kettle on to boil. Her hands shook slightly as she fumbled with the tea bag, trying to open the little envelope it was housed in so she could place it in her mug. Gripping the counter, Olivia willed the lightheaded feeling to pass. When the sensation subsided, she poured herself some orange juice, and sipped that slowly until the shaking stopped altogether.

The whistling of the tea kettle pulled her from her thoughts – ones she had been hearing in Elliot's voice no less. In her mind, he had been admonishing her yet again that she needed to eat, insisting that he'd cook whatever she wanted for breakfast. Somehow the message stuck with her, and before she even realized what she was doing, Olivia found herself preparing a bowl of instant oatmeal along with her tea. How was it that even when he was absent, Elliot could have such an influence over her? It hadn't just been in recent days either – she'd noticed it during the years he had been missing from her life, though as time had gone on, she'd been too stubborn to admit to it.

Despite the fact that she wasn't feeling hungry, Olivia had no desire to see the food she'd made go to waste, either. She supposed the least she could do was attempt to eat a few bites. Grabbing the bowl in one hand and her steaming mug in the other, she retreated to the relative comfort of the living room. Even though he'd only stayed at the cottage for the span of a few days, the only meals she'd eaten at the table had been with Elliot, and she had no desire to sit there alone.

Turning the television on for background noise, she tuned in to one of those daytime morning talk shows – the ones with hosts she typically found to be insipid and easily replaceable. It wasn't perfect, but the sound of conversation filling the room was oddly soothing, even if no one was actually addressing her specifically. Olivia watched with a glazed expression, not reacting to the antics of the duo onscreen, as she mechanically spooned oatmeal into her mouth.

Despite all her attempts at distraction, it was after the fourth bite that her stomach rebelled and insisted it couldn't consume any more. Luckily, while there had been a mild churning sensation, the contents stayed put, and gradually she was left with nothing but a feeling of being full.

Even though there was still another hour to go before her appointment with Lindstrom, Olivia forced herself to move from her spot on the couch. She wanted to clear away any sight of the dishes she'd left behind. Not that she feared her psychiatrist would judge her, but the last thing she wanted was for her appetite – or lack thereof – to become a topic of conversation. In fact, she wasn't even planning on mentioning yesterday's debacle. She'd just have to make certain that she kept her fluid intake up so that something like that never happened again. As it was, she wasn't sure if she'd ever be able to look Owen in the eye from now on. How humiliating it had been that someone she barely knew had had to have helped her in that way.

Almost as though someone had read her mind, there was a knock on the door. Olivia headed toward the source of the sound, calling out as a precaution to see who was on the other side. What if Elliot had come back? Her heart began to pound in anticipation.

"Olivia, it's Owen. I'm sorry to stop by so early, but I wanted to check on you."

Struggling to set aside her shame, Olivia opened the door to reveal her neighbor. When she saw him, she was surprised to see that he had a small bag slung over one shoulder, and was carrying a covered bowl in his hands. With a friendly smile, he extended it to her, offering an explanation as he did so.

"Stacy sent this over for you. Consider it a 'welcome to the neighborhood' type thing. She realized that after yesterday, you may not be feeling up to coming over for dinner anytime soon, but she still wanted to do something nice."

Owen went on to inform Olivia that what she held contained a tortellini pasta salad and that the reusable bowl was hers to keep. Still stunned at the gesture, Olivia remembered to thank him, as she invited him into the cottage. Walking toward the kitchen, she deposited the bowl onto the counter and returned to where he was waiting for her.

"I'd offer you some coffee, but I'm afraid I don't have any made this morning. If you'd like, I can put on a pot -"

"No need, Olivia. I won't be keeping you for long. I just came over to see how your blood pressure was today after yesterday's scare."

Even though he'd not done anything directly to cause her embarrassment, Olivia felt her cheeks flush. Part of her wanted to make him leave as soon as possible, not wanting any fuss or attention. Then there was another part, a small insistent voice in the back of her head that told her it couldn't hurt to get checked out. Again, that voice of reason sounded remarkably like Elliot. That made the second time now that he'd crept into her psyche.

"That's fine. I'm feeling much better now though, really. I think I just overdid things yesterday."

Olivia took a seat on the couch, and not wanting to invade her personal space by sitting next to her, Owen opted to perch on the coffee table across from her. Pulling the stethoscope and cuff from his bag, he wrapped it around her upper arm and began to inflate it. Less than a minute later, he had his reading.

"Your blood pressure is 95/70. While still in the normal range, it's quite on the low side. Better than yesterday though. When I first arrived, your reading was at 80/65."

Olivia tried to absorb what Owen was telling her. Low blood pressure meant that she could easily have another fainting spell. She'd just have to make sure that didn't happen.

"What can I do to help correct that?"

"Take in as many fluids as you can today, maybe even some broth or a sports drink. Try not to overdo it, and if you should feel sick for any reason, feel free to call me. Also, it wouldn't be wise to drive right now."

Olivia blanched. Someone who was practically a stranger telling her she couldn't drive? Then as realization set in, it dawned on her it was coming from his experience as a medic, and not trying to give orders. The last thing she'd need is to pass out while behind the wheel. She'd never forgive herself if she caused an accident and hurt – or heaven forbid killed - someone else.

Gathering his things, Owen reminded her yet again to call if she should need anything, extending a business card with his cell phone number on it. Olivia thanked him for stopping by, and also asked him to thank his wife for sending over the tortellini salad. After seeing Owen out the door, she was alone with her thoughts once more, and feeling more overwhelmed than ever before.

* * *

Before Olivia was really ready for it, it was time for her appointment with Doctor Lindstrom. She logged in on her tablet and waited for her psychiatrist to join the video call. She wasn't sure exactly what she was going to talk about during this session, because she'd already promised herself she wasn't going to mention some of the things that had been happening – and she definitely wasn't going to say anything about the day before. Forcing herself to focus, Olivia addressed her doctor, whose face had just appeared on the screen.

"Good morning, Dr. Lindstrom."

"Good morning, Olivia. How are you today?"

How could such a simple question be so fucking complicated? Olivia thought of all the times she'd asked the same thing of survivors over the years, and chastised herself for her callousness. Now that she was on the receiving end, she truly understood how upsetting it could be. She's not quite sure she could label it as condescending, because the intentions behind it were often genuine, but exactly how was she expected to be? What was she supposed to be feeling? For once, it wasn't a rhetorical question, because Olivia really wished someone would tell her what she was supposed to feel, because identifying any one emotion out of the myriad of those overwhelming her at any given moment was exhausting in itself.

"Well, I'm still here in Cape May, if you're wondering. Even though I'm not entirely sure I want to be. I still think six months off is a bit excessive."

"Olivia, we've talked about this. You need time to recover. You have to give yourself a chance. You've barely been there a week, it will take time to adjust to a more relaxed schedule."

Olivia felt the anger well up inside her. Exactly what did he think she was doing here? What _was_ there to do here, anyway? Trying not to get distracted, she merely nodded her agreement, figuring at this point it was better to go along with him than to assert her own opinion. She couldn't remember the last time she had been this complacent, but arguing required energy, which was limited in supply. If not for the constant night terrors, she'd likely stay huddled in bed all day long. But their existence made the bedroom a less than comfortable place, as she had found out the night before.

"Tell me more about Elliot. You mentioned the last time we talked that he was staying with you. How is your reunion going?"

Olivia pressed her hand against her chest as the words cut so deeply she could practically feel it. How could she say that she'd sent Elliot away without getting into a discussion about what had happened yesterday? Deciding that she had to be honest – at least in regard to Elliot no longer being present – she took a deep breath and went for broke.

"Elliot's not here anymore. I asked him to leave yesterday."

"Can you tell me more about that, Olivia?"

This was precisely the reason why she hadn't wanted to say anything. Olivia had known Lindstrom would try and analyze things, to get to the deeper roots of the issue. She understood it was in his job description to ask questions – it had once been in hers, too – but this would lead nowhere. All it would serve to do is tear her up even more inside and realize just how hopelessly broken she was. She didn't need a reminder of that, it's what she saw whenever she looked at her reflection in a mirror.

"I let him read my files about what had happened, and it nearly broke him. He's a recovering alcoholic now, and he had to go to a meeting after he learned the truth. I won't be the reason someone else in my life drinks."

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Olivia instantly regretted them. While they'd touched briefly on her parentage in the past – she'd revealed that she had been raised by a single mother - it was a topic she had always skirted around, never wanting to dwell on it for too long. She had always feared it would become fodder for too many questions she wouldn't want to answer, one of the top reasons she kept the knowledge a secret most of the time to begin with. Naturally, Dr. Lindstrom picked up on her verbal slip immediately, and to Olivia's dismay, he wanted to delve deeper into what was upsetting his patient. His voice was soft as he gently prodded the conversation along.

"You said 'someone else'. Who else in your life drank, Olivia? And what would make you think you would be responsible for it?"

Olivia desperately wished it was time for her session to be over, but they'd barely just begun. There was at least another fifty minutes left in the hour, if not longer. Why had she ever consented to twice weekly meetings? She had barely been able to tolerate the weekly appointments before all this. A brief flash of memory reminded her what the alternative had almost been – inpatient care on a locked ward, where there really wouldn't have been any freedom or autonomy at all. This way, she did have some intrusions in her life, and some of what she viewed as restrictions, but for the most part, she was left on her own.

"Olivia? Can you answer the question for me?"

Yet again, Dr. Lindstrom was prompting her. The last thing she wanted to talk about now was her mother, but she wanted to talk about herself even less. She supposed it was the lesser of the two evils.

"My mother."

The psychiatrist's perception served him well, and he correctly intuited that this had been a problem Olivia had witnessed from her childhood. Now he was going to try to get to the root of the issue – if she would share it.

"You were only a child, what could you possibly have done to consider yourself responsible for your mother's actions?"

When Olivia spoke next, her voice was barely a whisper.

"I was born."

"You believe that your mother resented you?"

Running a hand through her hair, Olivia exhaled deeply.

"It's not a matter of what I believed, I knew it to be fact. She told me as much, before I was even old enough to understand what the word 'resentment' really meant."

Dr. Lindstrom nodded, thinking he understood where things were going, but misjudging the situation gravely. His next statement was based solely on assumption – and while his perception was usually more skilled, this time he was way off the mark.

"So her relationship with your father was a bit acrimonious, then?"

Olivia barked a laugh, even though there was nothing remotely humorous about the question. She was just at the point now where it was either laugh or cry, and she knew if she started crying, she'd never stop. Besides, she didn't have time to wallow in self pity.

"You could say that, considering my 'father' was the man who raped her."

When Lindstrom spoke next, his tone of voice had changed completely. Instead of curiosity, it now exuded empathy and concern.

"Olivia, I'm sorry. I had no idea."

"Yeah, well, it's not exactly something I broadcast."

"As an adult though, you have to know that your mother's decisions were her own. Yes, alcoholism is a disease, but you were not the reason your mother drank. It was a coping mechanism to deal with the trauma."

Olivia shook her head, determined to argue her point.

"But if I'd have never been born, she'd have never had a daily reminder of her trauma to deal with."

"You don't know that."

They debated the topic for several more minutes before Olivia shut down and refused to say anything else on the issue. Already she was regretting having brought it up in the first place. Thankfully, Dr. Lindstrom accepted her refusal to discuss the matter further, and moved on.

"Tell me about your sleep patterns, Olivia. Has the medication I've given you helped you resume a more normal schedule?"

"I haven't taken it."

It hurt Olivia so deeply to admit to that, that she couldn't even meet her doctor in the eye as she said the words – even though they were only communicating through a video medium. By confessing that she hadn't even tried the pills she'd been given, she felt as though she'd failed somehow – or would be labeled as resistant to treatment. Even though it had been a few weeks since she'd been cleared, there was still the nagging fear in the back of her mind of being placed in inpatient care.

"I tried, but I couldn't. It's just that...Lewis gave me sleeping pills. I know they weren't the same thing, but that's where my mind goes every time I pick up the bottle, and my throat closes up."

"Olivia, I'm sorry. I should have considered that. We'll look into another option, okay?"

Closing her eyes Olivia took another deep breath. She was about to make a big leap out of her comfort zone and admit to something. This was a bit out of character for her, but she feared if she didn't speak up now, it would just be an endless cycle of one medication after another.

"I'm scared."

"Tell me about what you're feeling right now."

"I don't want to take anything to help me sleep. The dreams are bad enough right now as it is, but at least I'm able to eventually wake myself up. What if I take a prescription that keeps me stuck in them even longer? I don't think I could cope with that. And I don't think there is a medication that exists that will make me stop dreaming."

The psychiatrist's voice was full of regret when he spoke.

"No, there isn't Olivia. But I can try and give you something else that may improve your sleep. Trazodone has sedating properties, but it is not specifically a sleeping medication. It would also work with the citalopram and boost your serotonin levels, which could help the depression."

Though Lindstrom made a valid argument, Olivia wasn't convinced. She simply wasn't ready to add another medication to her daily regimen, and had to decline. As the session was coming to a close, the topic came up again as to how she was feeling in regard to Elliot's departure, and how she would react if he were to return.

"I can't think about that right now."

Olivia was grateful when Lindstrom seemed to accept her response. They scheduled two appointments for the following week – one for Monday, and one for Friday – then closed out the video call. Left alone once more, Olivia was left feeling completely drained and exhausted. Setting her tablet to the side, she pulled the fleece blanket around her body and lay down on the couch. She wasn't hopeful of getting a great deal of sleep, but she simply had to try and rest in order to recover from the toll the previous hour had taken.

* * *

Some time later, Olivia very nearly fell off the couch when she awoke from a bad dream so suddenly that her body was left trembling in it's aftermath. Her mind went back to the conversation she'd had with Dr. Lindstrom and medication, and she shook her head ruefully. If only a prescription actually existed to keep her from dreaming. That would be a pill she would willingly take.

Looking at the clock in the kitchen with a groan, Olivia realized it was still early in the afternoon – not much after one. Sleeping clearly wasn't a productive way to spend her time, so how was she going to get through the days here if she wasn't able to exercise? It hadn't even been a week yet, and she already had cabin fever. But at the same time, the thought of going out and about, actually exploring the town, was terrifying. Not to mention the fact that Owen had mentioned this morning that she shouldn't be driving while her blood pressure was still so low.

That brief recollection brought something else to mind, and Olivia used the internet access to bring up the website for the grocery store on her tablet. When she'd been living in the city, delivery was never anything she'd had to worry about, but she was curious to see whether or not the local store here offered the service. To her great relief, they did. Knowing that she could never stomach those flavored sports drinks, Olivia instead ordered a few boxes of bouillon granules that she could mix with hot water to make broth, along with some packages of cup of soup. She also added more teabags to her virtual cart, knowing she was running through what she'd already bought rather quickly.

She felt a pang of regret when the idea flashed in her mind that she should ask Elliot if he needed anything from the store before completing her order. Reminding herself that what she'd done was the best for everyone involved, Olivia entered her payment information and scheduled a delivery time. Unfortunately, nothing was available until the following morning. She made a mental note to prepare her shopping a day ahead in the future, not that she planned on any large food orders any time soon. She couldn't even take her eating battles day by day right now. It was more like hour by hour – even if she often ended up on the losing side.

Needing to do something to keep herself occupied, or else risk being sucked into a mire of endless spiraling thoughts, Olivia pushed herself off the couch and trudged upstairs. She supposed now was as good a time as any to finally unpack. The longer she lived in denial about the fact that this situation was going to be her new life for the foreseeable future, the harder it would be to accept. No one was going to magically release her for a return to work, no matter how much she wished for it.

Methodically opening drawers, she began organizing her clothes and other belongings. It was only when she'd finished with her task that she realized her error. There was no way she'd be able to carry her empty trunk and suitcases to the storage space, not with the dizzy spells she'd been having. Another idea soon came to mind, and though it was a struggle, she managed to get them down the hall and into the other spare room – the one Elliot hadn't been using. At least there, they'd be out of the way.

Much to her dismay, Olivia realized upon her return downstairs that all of her hard work in the bedroom had only taken up a little over ninety minutes of her time. The days had never seemed this long when Elliot was here. Yes, she had definitely felt a bit awkward in his presence, but at least she had never felt like was going out of her mind. She didn't understand it. She'd been living alone the majority of her adult life. A little solitude shouldn't be bothering her this much.

What could she do now? Yes there was always the option of watching something on television, but Olivia didn't honestly believe her concentration would hold out. The same held true for trying to read. She'd brought a few books with her just in case, but right now they held no interest. No, what she really wanted – needed – was to run. The exhilaration of her feet pounding against the pavement, the echo of her heartbeat thrumming in her ears, and the rush of endorphins that came with it, was all such an incredible feeling. She needed activities that kept her in control of her mind _and_ body, and the more passive hobbies like watching television or reading didn't seem to help.

The phone rang then, and Olivia startled at the unexpected noise. Looking at the display, she blanched slightly when she saw Elliot's name. What was he doing calling? For several seconds, she debated not answering, then her conscience kicked in and she wondered if perhaps he'd run into trouble of some sort on his drive back to Florida. With a shaky breath, she answered.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Olivia. It's me. Then again, I'm guessing you already knew that. I'm glad you picked up."

His voice was tentative, and this annoyed Olivia greatly. In recent weeks and months, she'd had more than enough of people walking on eggshells around her. She could always tell by their tone when they were trying not to upset her. This was what she despised most – being treated differently because of what she'd been through. The fact that it was now coming from Elliot, of all people, cut her deeply.

"What do you want, Elliot? Shouldn't you be in North Carolina or something by now? Did you have engine trouble?"

"I'm not in North Carolina. I'm still in Cape May. I never left, Liv. How could I?"

Olivia had caught his lapse back into her usual nickname, but opted not to comment on it. She was too overwhelmed with other emotions at the moment. He'd never left? Even after she'd screamed and shouted at him and practically thrown him out the door herself? What on earth could have been his incentive to stay? Didn't he understand that she couldn't be fixed?

"Why?"

"Why what, Liv?"

Olivia's question had been a quiet whisper, and Elliot's answering one was just as soft. Deep down, they both knew what was on the other person's mind, but were choosing to dance around the topic. It was easier than discussing it directly. Bringing it out into the open, saying the words out loud and admitting the emotions behind them, would hurt too much. They weren't ready. Instead, Elliot opted to say something else.

"I only went as far as the Jetty Motel. I'm about three miles away."

Olivia exhaled a shaky breath as she tried to keep herself under control. Even after everything she'd said yesterday, all of her harsh words, he had still chosen to stay. He knew about the worst parts of her life, and he wasn't going anywhere. The more she thought about the events of the previous day, the more she realized how grossly she had overreacted in the heat of the moment. If she'd not have passed out in the morning, Elliot likely would have given her all the space in the world. But she'd had a health scare, and he had only been showing appropriate concern.

"I'm sorry."

"You don't owe me any apologies, Olivia. I never intended to stay away for good. I only ever meant to give you a few days to yourself. The decision is entirely yours. Did you want me to come over now, or would you rather I wait until tomorrow?"

Truth be told, she desperately wanted him now, but Olivia couldn't bring herself to admit that. Instead she tried to sound as brave as possible as she told Elliot that tomorrow would be fine. He reminded her that he could be at the cottage within minutes if she should need him, and his phone would always be on – a welcome reassurance after years of him being out of reach.

"Goodbye, Elliot. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Bye, Olivia. I'll call you before I leave the motel tomorrow, so I don't startle you when I get there."

Olivia hung up the phone, sighing quietly. She brushed a lone tear away. He had stayed. She hadn't pushed him away. Relief flooded throughout her veins. She knew she could have asked him to come back this very instant, and he'd have been at the door in a heartbeat, but she didn't want to seem weak. Plus, a little more time alone with her thoughts might actually be a good thing. When Elliot did return, they would definitely need to discuss boundaries – to avoid anything like this happening again.

The call with Elliot seemed to have given her a bit of renewed energy, and Olivia wasn't feeling quite as restless as before. She'd barely eaten any oatmeal this morning, and had forgotten about lunch, but promised herself she would try and do better about dinner. Remembering the tortellini salad that Owen had brought over this morning, she figured she should try and eat a little bit of that soon. First things first, though, she was going to have some water to drink. She wanted to try and stay hydrated, and she feared tea might not be the best option right now.

Grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, Olivia headed back to the living room. She wrapped herself up in the blanket, and absentmindedly flipped through the channels on the television. She didn't really care what was on, she just couldn't stand the quiet right now. She supposed that was what she missed the most about the city - the constant noise. Here, it was so calm that the thoughts in her head drowned out everything else, and it was slowly driving her insane. Maybe that was why she had this incessant need within her to always want to run right now. That if she were to run fast enough and far enough, she could escape the nightmare that her life had become.

Olivia's hand went to her throat, still not quite used to feeling the absence of the pendant that used to always be present. In a way though, she was relieved that she no longer had the medal. Wearing it now would only make her feel like a fraud. Fearlessness may have once been her mantra, but she certainly couldn't claim it as an attribute any longer. Deep down, she knew for a fact that she was nothing but a coward. If she were truly fearless, she wouldn't be the shell of a person she once knew, a reflection she barely recognized. Everything that has happened in the past year has made her doubt her entire existence as she's ever known it.

* * *

How long she had stayed lost in the abyss of her despair, Olivia didn't know. It must have been at least an hour or more, because it was now late afternoon, and still the only thing she'd eaten all day had been those few bites of oatmeal she'd choked down at breakfast. Even her well meaning intentions of drinking water earlier had fallen by the wayside as the once cold beverage had now warmed to room temperature and was no longer appealing.

If she were truly honest with herself, there was one thing that she was most worried about, and that was Elliot. Ever since she'd spoken with him on the phone earlier, she hadn't been able to get her former partner off her mind. In addition to all the other turmoil she was battling, she was now waging an internal war with herself, and what it was that she actually wanted.

Though he had promised to return the following day, Olivia wasn't sure she was ready to see him again. At the same time, the prospect of being alone wasn't exactly appealing, either. It went back to the issue of it being too quiet. Not that Elliot was exactly a noisy person to be around, but since his arrival that first night, she'd found his presence strangely comforting. If only he wouldn't be so insistent that she take care of herself. She knew he meant well, but it made her feel so smothered. If they were going to coexist in the same house for an extended period of time, she was going to need her space.

Frustrated with herself and the way her mind was spiraling, Olivia was determined to get out of the house. She decided she was going to go to the beach for awhile. Even if she was supposed to be taking it easy, there were no laws saying she couldn't sit on the sand and watch the waves crash against the shore. There were still a few hours of light left before it got dark, and she couldn't stand to be cooped up inside a moment longer.

Several minutes later, she was on her way. She'd packed a spare blanket in a tote bag along with a fresh bottle of water and a towel, just in case she needed to wipe the sand from her feet later on. Her phone was tucked in the front flap of the bag. As she walked past the Winter's house, Olivia didn't notice that Owen was in his front yard, nor did she hear him calling to her. She was too lost in her own misery.

When she reached the beach, Olivia kicked off her shoes and picked them up in her hand, walking barefoot across the sand. Finding a good spot, she struggled to set up the blanket by herself, as the wind was proving to be a detriment. Eventually, she was successful, and was soon seated.

Now that she was out in the fresh air, her mind felt marginally clearer than it had when she had been cooped up in the house. The more Olivia thought about Elliot's impending return the following day, the more she realized she wasn't ready for it. Knowing she didn't have the strength to deal with having another conversation with him today, she simply sent him a text message, asking him if he could please wait and call her again tomorrow and check in with her then. Feeling as though a great weight had been lifted off her shoulders, she dropped the phone onto the blanket and heaved a sigh of relief.

Her restless mind couldn't be quieted though, and just as when she'd been here the day before, Olivia felt the ocean calling to her. There was something about the unpredictability of the waves that she found herself drawn to. They were so beautiful, but at the same time, could also be deadly. They were a force of nature to be reckoned with, and she longed to submerge herself in the waters and let them take her away. It wasn't necessarily that she wished to drown – she didn't want to die – but the concept of being washed clean and made whole again was appealing. Maybe that was why she had walked out as far as she dared go the day before, hoping for a baptism of renewal. It hadn't happened though. Instead, it had served as the precursor for her fight with Elliot.

Olivia flinched as icy water lapped against her legs. Blinking, she tried to remember how she had gotten from the relative safety of the blanket to standing knee deep in the ocean. She had no conscious memory of deciding to walk here, but at the same time, she couldn't bring herself to turn back, either. Wading in even further, she was up to her waist before she even realized it. The one thing that she didn't know was that someone was watching her from the wooden planks that led to the beach from the street, and that person was extremely concerned.

Though he'd not had any intentions of interfering, Owen Winter could remain passive no longer. As fast as he could, he made his way down the beach, his worry for Olivia increasing. He hadn't called Elliot yet, unsure of what he would even begin to say to the other man. Just as he was about to head into the water after the woman he was convinced was inconsolable, she had turned around and was making her own way back out to shore. It was obvious from the blank expression on her face though that she had yet to register his presence. Not wanting to startle her, he called to her when she was a few feet away.

"Olivia. Olivia, it's Owen. Can you hear me?"

It dawned on Olivia that she was once again standing on the sandy beach soaking wet and shivering. To add to her embarrassment, Owen was with her somehow, a witness to her humiliation. As she tried to figure out how to apologize, the neighbor whom she barely knew wrapped the blanket she had previously been sitting on around her in an attempt to warm her, acting as though nothing were at all unusual about taking a fully clothed swim in late April.

"Come on, Olivia, lets get you back to the cottage. Is it all right if I walk with you?"

Not having any energy to argue, Olivia nodded her consent and slipped into her shoes, not even caring if she tracked sand back with her. Owen picked up her tote bag and phone, and fell into step beside her. They didn't speak on the walk back, not until they were once again indoors and Olivia's shivers gradually began to abate.

"Why don't you go upstairs and change into something warm, and I'll put on some water for some tea for you? I promise I'll leave you alone once I'm sure you're okay, but there is something I want to talk to you about first."

Nodding numbly, Olivia headed upstairs to follow the instructions. She wasn't sure why she wasn't debating Owen, when if it had been Elliot, she would have fought tooth and nail. Perhaps it was because she was simply too tired to care right now.

* * *

When Olivia returned downstairs fifteen minutes later, Owen was still there. Apparently that meant she hadn't imagined him. He was sitting at one side of the table, a steaming mug of tea waiting for her on the opposite side. Though the last time she had sat in that chair had been with Elliot across from her, Olivia knew she wouldn't feel comfortable sharing the couch with Owen, and this was the better of the two options.

Taking her seat, Olivia kept her eyes trained on her tea, unsure of what to say. She was so humiliated right now, and was wishing more than ever that she could just disappear – or rather, that Owen would drop the subject entirely and leave her on her own. What she wasn't expecting, was the conversation that was about to take place.

"Olivia, I don't want to make things awkward for you. I know you barely know me, so you don't have any reason to trust me, but I want you to know that you can."

Owen waited a few seconds, then continued.

"I told you yesterday that I was a former army medic, but what I didn't tell you was the reason that led up to my honorable discharge. I was injured overseas when the ambulance I was driving encountered an IED. My partner and the patient we were transporting were both killed, I was the lone survivor."

Olivia looked up sharply then, her breath caught in her throat. She wasn't sure exactly what she had been expecting Owen to say to her, but it hadn't been _this_. She watched, speechless, as he lifted up the leg of his jeans, revealing a realistic-looking prosthetic limb.

"It's been four years now since I've been fitted with this, and even now, sometimes the phantom pains keep me awake at night. I still have nightmares dealing with what I witnessed during my time over there."

Owen gave her a few minutes to absorb the information he'd just revealed, then continued. He was sure that she must be confused.

"I'm telling you this Olivia, not because I want you to feel sorry for me, but so you know that I can be here for you. I'm not going to pretend to understand the hell you've been through, but I do know what PTSD is like. And before you think that Elliot betrayed your confidence, you have to know that he didn't. I realized from the moment I first met you that you'd been through something. I recognized the look in your eyes."

"How can you help me? How can anyone?"

Olivia hated how vulnerable she sounded in that moment, but there was no point in pretending that she was fine. Not only had Owen witnessed more than one occasion of weakness, but he'd read between the lines and figured out what was going on. Truth be told, it was a bit of a relief to not have to maintain the facade. Not that she was going to let all the walls come tumbling down, but unlike Elliot, Owen was not someone she had to protect.

"I'm not a licensed therapist, but in addition to donating hours as a medic with local services, I also volunteer my time as a peer counselor with the local Veteran's Association. I'm an excellent listener."

"What all do you know about me?"

Owen looked away, ashamed now to admit that he had gone online to do some research about the woman who would be his neighbor for the foreseeable future.

"I did look you up online, but once I saw the headlines, I didn't read any further. I only know enough to know that you've been to hell and back. The rest, I've all seen in your eyes. They tell me that you've faced off against the devil himself. But the thing you have to keep reminding yourself is that you've won."

Olivia was trembling now, her tea long forgotten. How was it that a complete stranger could read her better than any medical professional ever had? Moreover, there was something within her that wanted to confide in this man. Before she even realized she was doing it, she heard herself speaking in a whisper.

"I'm not so sure about that."

"You're alive. That's what matters."

Olivia laughed, but there was no humor behind it. Instead, the emotion was full of bitterness and self loathing.

"I've said that to so many people over the years, I don't know how I ever believed that bullshit."

"Well trust me when I say the time will come when you'll believe it again."

They sat in silence for a few moments, then Owen spoke up again. He knew the next thing he was about to say might not be as easily received, but it was something that Olivia would need to hear.

"You also need to trust Elliot. Shutting him out isn't going to do either one of you any good."

Just as he'd anticipated, anger flashed over Olivia's features. He'd welcome it. As long as she was still getting angry, that meant the fight still lived within her. If she would have remained completely apathetic to his suggestion, then he would have been even more concerned. A reaction like this meant that even if she weren't completely aware of it yet, she wanted to get better.

"Before you get upset, hear me out. When I first lost my leg, I was bitter and angry. I even tried to shut Stacy out, convinced she'd be better off without me. What I didn't realize was that was the moment when we needed each other more than ever. By relying on one another for support, you and Elliot can only build each other up, not tear each other apart."

Olivia was still not convinced, and eyed Owen skeptically.

"If you need to take a couple days by yourself to sort out your own thoughts, that's fine. But don't shut him out completely. It was clear from what I witnessed yesterday that he cares about you, and would do anything for you. Let him help."

* * *

Owen had left not long after imparting those words of advice, and Olivia was still sitting at the table trying to absorb them all. She still couldn't believe how much the man had confided in her, let alone his innate ability to read her. She wasn't sure yet if she'd ever take him up on his offer to talk, but for the first time in months, it had felt like someone understood where she was coming from. Granted, their situations were nothing alike, but Owen had lived through his own personal hell. Maybe he would have tips for how to get through to the other side. She supposed he had a point regarding Elliot, too, although she was more hesitant on that front. Olivia still thought it was best to shield Elliot from the worst of it all, and believed that he belonged with his family.

It was then that Olivia realized it was now dark outside, and she had yet to eat anything since her failed attempt with the oatmeal that morning. Truth be told, she was surprised that Owen hadn't said anything about it, but maybe he didn't fully comprehend things as much as he claimed to. If Elliot were here, she knew that he'd have encouraged her to eat long before now. But the way the acids in her stomach were churning, there was no way she'd be able to keep anything down. At least after tomorrow morning, she'd have the broth that she had ordered from the store to try and sip on for times like this.

Checking the time, she saw that it wasn't even eight o'clock. It was still too early to go to bed, no matter how exhausting of a day she might have had. Falling asleep now only meant the nightmares would come sooner, and she wanted to avoid that for as long as possible.

Pushing herself away from the table, she padded into the living room and settled on the couch, cocooning herself in the blanket. Using the remote to put on the television, she opted to switch to the digital streaming box. Scanning through the various services she found something that caught her eye. Seconds later, the opening intro to _The Joy of Painting_ appeared on the screen. Though it wasn't something she would normally watch, host and artist Bob Ross had a calming voice, and the tapping of the brush on the canvas was a comforting sound. Not to mention, the landscapes that he painted were all beautiful and idyllic, and if she tried hard enough, she could imagine herself escaping to one of them and disappearing into the void.

After several episodes, Olivia felt her eyelids begin to droop. Knowing that she didn't want to sleep on the couch, she turned everything off and locked up for the night. Gathering up her phone and tablet, she carried them upstairs. Once in her bedroom, the first thing she did was tune back into what she had previously been watching. Perhaps if she left this show playing all night long, it might aid her sleep. It certainly couldn't hurt it any, that was for certain.

Plugging in her tablet and phone to charge, she padded into the bathroom to brush her teeth. Too weary to bother changing into something different to wear for bed, she opted to stay dressed in the clothes she'd put on when Owen had brought her back from the beach. Crawling underneath the covers, Olivia realized with a groan that she hadn't taken her nightly dose of medication. With no bottle of water up here, and no energy to go back downstairs and get more, she simply decided to let it go for the time being. It was hard enough to choke down the stupid tablet anyway, and it wasn't as though it had been helping. Why bother taking it?

Just as she was settling in against the pillows, Olivia heard a chime from her cell phone. Reaching for the device, she pulled it closer to read the message on the display.

_Figured you're probably heading to bed right about now. Just checking in and wanted to say goodnight. Call me if you need anything, no matter what time it is._

Before she fully realized what she was doing, she had dialed Elliot's number and had the phone at her ear. She hadn't meant to call, but the next thing she knew, he was answering on the first ring.

"Olivia?"

"Hey, Elliot. I just wanted to thank you for the message."

He immediately reassured her that there was no need for her to thank him, that she was his main concern. An awkward silence followed, as she didn't know what to say next. To her relief, Elliot found a way to bridge the gap.

"So, what are you watching tonight? Anything good? I had the hockey game on earlier, but all that resulted in was me yelling at the TV."

Despite herself, Olivia found that she was laughing at Elliot's comment. It brought back memories of the times they had spent in her old apartment, watching the sport together. They would drink beer and argue over who got the last egg roll. That seemed like another lifetime ago now. In many ways, it was.

"I'm watching _The Joy of Painting._ "

"The one with the guy who always used to paint the happy little clouds and trees that had friends?"

"That's the one."

Olivia didn't know why she was waiting for the judgment to follow, but for whatever reason, she found herself holding her breath. It never came. Instead, Elliot's voice was reassuring in her ear.

"That's good, Liv. I hope it helps."

She had noticed his use of her nickname, but opted not to call him on it. It was too late to get into another fight, and to be honest, she wasn't sure it was worth it. No matter what she may have believed during his absence, it was obvious that Elliot had never stopped caring about her. If he wanted to address her in the same affectionate way he always had, who was she to stop him? There was, after all, a sense of comfort in the familiarity of it all. Now, if only she could trust her heart enough to allow herself to call him 'El' again. But some wounds would take longer than others to heal.

* * *

Olivia sat up in bed suddenly, drenched in a cold sweat. She was uncertain if she'd cried out in her sleep, all she knew was the dream had been pretty much the same as all the others. Across the room on the TV, Bob was in the middle of painting another landscape. Though the light from the screen brightened the room to a degree, that didn't explain the muted glow she saw coming from her tangled sheets.

As she searched for the source of the light, Olivia realized that not only was her cell phone still on, but her call to Elliot was still connected. He'd stayed on the line with her this whole time? Judging from the display, it had been at least three hours since the call had began, and she didn't remember having talked to him for that long. Bringing the phone to her ear, she spoke his name in a soft whisper.

"Elliot?"

"Yeah, Liv. I'm here."

Unsure whether she should be mortified or relieved, Olivia ran her palm over her face. Just what had he heard? Then again, how different could it have been from his nights here in the cottage with her?

Looking at the clock in the room, Olivia noted that it was only a little past midnight. This was a normal time for her to awaken from the dreams that plagued her on a nightly basis. Still, she felt as though she were somehow an inconvenience, a bother – even though it had been Elliot's choice to remain on the line.

"I'm sorry, you should have hung up when you realized I'd fallen asleep. I didn't mean to be so rude."

"Liv, stop. I stayed on the line with you because I wanted to. I may not be able to do much, but the least I can do is let you know you're not alone."

She nodded then, but ultimately realized he couldn't see her.

"Thank you."

Silence reigned for a few moments before Elliot spoke again.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Briefly, Olivia's mind flashed back to her conversation with Owen earlier today. This would be a perfect time for her to let down her guard and let Elliot in, to open up about some of what haunted her. But she simply wasn't ready. Even though the neighbor had made several valid points, he didn't know Elliot like she did. If she were to confide in her former partner now, he'd likely only blame himself for what had happened – if he hadn't begun to carry that burden already after having read her files. No, the less he knew for now, the better. Still, the gesture warmed her heart.

"Thank you, Elliot, but no. I'm just not ready."

"I understand."

They talked for a few minutes more, Elliot's curiosity getting the better of him, and asking what had made her choose the show she was currently watching – not that he faulted her for it, anything that would keep her calm, he supported.

"I know it sounds weird, since I have no artistic ability whatsoever, but I was just looking for something that wouldn't require too much focus or attention. Plus, he makes it look so easy, I almost want to believe that I _could_ do it, even though I don't think I'll ever try."

"Maybe you should."

Olivia didn't respond to that comment, but she definitely couldn't forget about it, either. Instead, she just filed it away for another day. Right now, she was more worried about the fact that she'd kept Elliot awake longer than necessary. She made her excuses and tried to hang up, but it appeared he still had more to say. She held her breath, uncertain if she was going to like his suggestion. She waited for him to continue.

"I don't want you to think I'm pushing you, that's not what this is. I absolutely respect you needing time to yourself. But what would you say if I were to stop over in the morning with some breakfast? I can swing by one of the bakeries here in town. If you don't want me to stay, I can just drop something off for you and leave again."

Olivia was torn. She knew she wasn't ready to have Elliot live with her again, but the thought of being completely alone wasn't appealing either. Maybe if he were to just come over for coffee in the mornings for a couple of days, they could see how that went and take things from there. Before she even realized what was happening, she heard herself agreeing to his suggestion.

"How does nine sound? Or is that too early for you?"

"Nine is fine, Elliot. Now, I should hang up for real and let you get some sleep. Thank you again for staying on the phone with me."

"You're welcome, Liv. Remember what I said – you can call me whenever – I don't care what time it is. Goodnight."

Olivia heard herself saying goodnight, and then the line went silent. Setting the phone back on her nightstand, she tried to process what had just happened. She'd just talked to Elliot more in the last half hour than she had during the few days he'd spent staying here at the cottage. Not to mention, she'd given the okay for him to come and visit tomorrow morning. Granted, she wasn't ready for him to move back in just yet, but they had to start somewhere.

Padding into the bathroom, she finally took her nightly dose of citalopram with some water she'd scooped up with her cupped palms. It was later than usual, but better than skipping it altogether, as she'd initially planned on doing. Then she crawled back into bed, hoping to get a little more sleep before the next round of night terrors woke her up.

* * *

The next morning, Olivia awoke before the alarm. The nightmares had been more haunting than usual, so she was surprised she'd gotten any sleep at all. Knowing that she still had two hours before Elliot would be by, she wanted to get out and go for a run. She'd understood the need to stay put yesterday, but if she didn't get some sort of physical activity today, she was going to go insane.

Changing into some suitable running gear, she headed downstairs and out of the cottage. Opting to follow the same route that she'd taken with Elliot the other day, Olivia began jogging in the direction of the lighthouse, keeping an even pace. Though she'd like to get in more, her plan was to only run for one mile today.

As she ran along, Olivia tried to commit some of the landmarks she passed to memory. For the most part, it was just cottages like the one she was staying in, but she still wanted to familiarize herself with the area. It also served as a reminder that one day soon, she'd like to visit the lighthouse. She'd done some research online on the attraction, and couldn't wait to climb the one hundred and ninety nine steps to the top.

Olivia was so preoccupied in her thinking, that she missed her intended stopping point, and ended up making another loop past the cottage. She was now well into the second mile of her run, and if she didn't stop soon, she'd be headed for a third. But she was so intent, so focused, on putting one foot in front of the other – on driving herself forward – that she'd lost sight of all else.

As she turned the corner onto the street where she was temporarily living, Olivia slowed her pace back down to a jog. She'd better stop now, or she'd never have enough time to shower before Elliot came over. Not that she was ashamed of the fact that she'd been running, but she wasn't exactly going to broadcast the fact either, knowing just how much he'd worry.

Olivia was three houses away from the cottage when she got so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she lost track of her pace, and her feet got tangled up. The next thing she knew, she was hitting the sidewalk hard, scraping both of her knees and the palms of her hands and knocking the breath from her body.

Mortified, she scrambled to her feet as fast as she could, not even waiting for the pain and shock to pass. With a quick glance around, Olivia limped the remaining distance to the to the cottage, relieved that no one had witnessed her humiliation. Her leggings were torn, and her knees and palms were bloody, but she could get that cleaned up in a minute. Right now, she just wanted to get inside before she died of embarrassment.

Once safely inside, she made her way up the stairs to the master bathroom and gingerly peeled off the clothes she was wearing and stepped into the shower. As the spray of the water hit her fresh wounds, it stung a bit, but Olivia just ignored it. She'd certainly felt worse in her life. Pain was nothing but a reminder that she was still alive. When it came to the numbness she was accustomed to feeling, it was a welcome change.

When Olivia was rinsing the shampoo from her hair, the room began to spin without warning. Not wanting to lose consciousness in the shower, she thought quickly, and adjusted the water temperature. As the cold spray hit her skin, she felt the fleeting moment of dizziness pass as she became more alert, and hurried to finish with her shower before the lightheaded feeling could return.

After toweling off, Olivia wrapped herself up in her robe and walked into the bedroom where she could sit on the bed and better assess the damage to her knees. Judging from the looks of things, the scrapes covered a large surface area, but weren't too deep. Not that she cared, she didn't have the energy to deal with basic first aid anyway. It wasn't like she was going to mention the incident to Elliot, either. If he knew, he'd only suggest that she stop running – or at the very least, insist that he accompany her.

Speaking of Elliot, he would be here in less than an hour. That is, if he didn't show up early. Olivia honestly didn't think he would, given his insistence on respecting her boundaries. But still, that gave her very little time to try and work up some sort of appetite for whatever it was that he was going to be bringing for their breakfast. Briefly, she thought about sending a text and canceling, but ultimately realized that would likely send up more red flags than if she kept their appointment.

Given the condition of her legs, putting leggings on again just wouldn't be feasible, so Olivia searched in her drawers for a more loose-fitting pair of sweats or knit pants. After finding what she was looking for, she slipped into them, choosing a long sleeved tee shirt to go with it. If only there was a way for her to cover up the scrapes on her palms, but short of wearing gloves, that wasn't possible. She'd just have to do her best to keep them out of sight and hope that Elliot wouldn't notice.

As Olivia headed back downstairs, opting to remain barefoot, a chime from her cell phone captured her attention. A quick glance told her that the incoming message was from Elliot.

_Morning Liv. I'll be leaving the motel soon to pick up our food, then I'll be on my way. Did you have anything special in mind – a pastry, a bagel, a hot breakfast maybe? I'll get you anything you want._

As Olivia read the incoming text, she felt another wave of warring emotions - anxiety that she was going to have to face Elliot again when she wasn't sure she was ready to see him - and guilt over the fact that he was so insistent on bringing her something to eat when she had no appetite whatsoever. Dreading the sort of debate that would follow if she would say she didn't want to eat, she simply typed out a reply, asking for the most basic thing that she could think of. She'd just have to get over the hurdle of taking a few bites whenever the time came.

_Just a cinnamon raisin bagel with plain cream cheese, please. Don't worry about getting any drinks, I'll put on some coffee._

With the message sent, Olivia set her phone down on the table in the dining area, and padded into the kitchen. Elliot would be here before she knew it, and she wanted to get a pot of coffee started brewing. Not to mention, she thought it would be a good idea to try and drink a cup of herbal tea to see if it could soothe her nerves before he arrived.

She was still standing in the kitchen several minutes later, the aroma of coffee filling the air when, out of nowhere, she was hit with another dizzy spell like she'd had two days before. One minute, her heart was pounding in her ears and all her limbs were shaking, and before she could make it somewhere safe to sit down, everything had gone black. As she collapsed, Olivia struck her head sharply on the edge of the counter before landing unresponsive on the tiled floor. As she lay there unconscious, blood trickling from a cut above her eyebrow, the eerie silence of the room was permeated only by the shrill sound of the tea kettle as it began to whistle.


	7. Denial

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, many thanks to LivBensonStabler for not only previewing this for me ahead of time, but for being my sounding board during our many late night chats.

**Disclaimer: SVU and all of its characters were created by and are the property of Dick Wolf. I make no profit with this story, which is my own original work.**

* * *

Elliot turned onto the street toward the cottage, his heart feeling lighter than it had since Olivia had kicked him out two days ago. Granted, she hadn't exactly asked him to move back in yet, but she had been willing to see him, and he considered that progress. She'd even seemed to show an interest in breakfast, going so far as to request her favorite – a cinnamon raisin bagel.

He hoped that the previous night had been good to her. Those three hours he had stayed on the phone while she had slept, listening to her steady breathing, had brought him a calm that he hadn't had in years.

It had broken his heart when her peaceful slumber had been shattered by that nightmare, but his faith had been restored when she'd realized he was still there. Instead of yelling at him again for invading her space, she had seemed grateful and relieved. Granted, he still hoped for a time when she would feel confident in sharing her fears with him, but he fully understood her hesitancy.

As he parked next to Olivia's SUV, Elliot couldn't shake the feeling of dread that had settled in his gut out of nowhere. He had initially attributed it to his nerves, but now he was certain it was something more. Retirement had not erased that innate sixth sense he'd relied on for so many years while on the job. Grabbing the bag that contained their breakfast, he climbed out of his vehicle. Squaring his shoulders, he hoped it was just his mind playing tricks on him, as he had believed that by the time he had arrived, Olivia would have changed her mind about seeing him. He was almost to the gate when he heard a voice behind him, and turned to see Owen approaching.

"Good morning, Elliot. I didn't think I was going to see you today. I was just coming over to check on Olivia before I went to work. I couldn't help but notice that she went for a run this morning, but Stacy needed my help with something, so I don't know how long she was away."

"Dammit, Olivia."

Elliot cursed softly under his breath, though he wasn't really angry at the woman who he was about to see. Truth be told, he understood her need to do _something_. In his first months of sobriety, whenever the memories of the shooting at the station would resurface, he'd been the same way. The only difference was his method of coping had been lifting weights.

"Did she at least stay inside yesterday, as you suggested?"

"Yes. I stopped by then, too. I checked her blood pressure, and even brought over a tortellini salad that Stacy had made."

Owen was torn over just how much to reveal about the events that had transpired the day before. He was worried for Olivia's safety, but at the same time, did not want to betray her confidence. If he should tell Elliot what had happened, and the man were to confront her about it, would it make the situation worse? Ultimately deciding that someone in Olivia's life needed to be made aware of just how precarious her mental health was, Owen decided he would tell the truth. If he were in the same position – and he once had been – he'd want someone to do the same for him.

"There was something that happened, though, on the beach. I wasn't trying to spy, I promise."

Elliot's brow furrowed with concern as he nodded, indicating that the other man should continue.

"I was in the yard when she took off yesterday afternoon, and she seemed distracted, so I followed her. I kept a distance, and for awhile, it just seemed like she was going to sit on the sand and watch the waves. But the next thing I knew -"

"She was in the ocean."

Elliot finished the sentence, his voice filled with pain and anguish. He didn't even have to look at Owen for confirmation, the memories of having seen a drenched Olivia after he had pulled her back through the window were already flooding his mind. He didn't want to believe it though, even if the truth was staring him in the face.

The two men walked together toward the door of the cottage, the quiet morning stillness of the neighborhood falling into place around them once more. Elliot raised his hand to knock, but then thought better of it, removing his phone from his pocket and calling the woman inside instead so that he wouldn't startle her.

He didn't think anything of the fact that his first call had gone unanswered, figuring that perhaps Olivia had been in the other room, and simply hadn't heard it ring. But when the second, third, and even fourth calls had all gone to voicemail, that nagging feeling in his gut returned, and his heart began to pound in his chest. Knowing that he would feel like the biggest asshole on the planet if he ended up triggering a flashback, but ultimately concerned for Olivia's well being, Elliot reached out and tested the knob, only to find that the door was securely locked.

Pressing his ear up against the door, he tried to discern if he could hear anything on the other side. The noise that echoed back was faint, but he could just barely make it out. If he was correct in his guess, it was the whistling of the tea kettle – and it, too, was being ignored. Something was wrong.

"We have to get inside. Something's not right, I know it. Fuck! She made me leave my key when she kicked me out the other day. I guess I'll have to break the door down."

As Elliot prepared to do just that, Owen put his hand on his shoulder to stop him.

"Wait, I have a key."

Producing his key ring from his pocket, Owen quickly flipped through it until he found the designated one, and hurriedly shoved it in the lock. Seconds later, both men were propelling themselves through the door, calling for Olivia. The paper bag that Elliot had brought with him- both a peace offering and a breakfast – now lay forgotten on the front lawn, no longer important.

Not wanting to intrude, Owen suggested Elliot check on Olivia while he silenced the screaming of the kettle. The two split up, Elliot racing for the stairs as Owen neared the kitchen. As he rounded the island counter and headed toward the stove, he stopped dead in his tracks.

"Elliot! She's in here!"

* * *

Heart in his throat, Elliot raced toward the kitchen. He had no memory of how he'd gotten back down the stairs so fast, nor did he care. The tone in Owen's voice had clearly proven that his instincts had been right. Even though he wasn't consciously aware of it, he was continually repeating a prayer in the back of his mind that Olivia would be all right, as though it were a mantra.

When he arrived mere seconds later, he found what amounted to be his worst nightmare come true. Owen was crouched on the floor over an unresponsive Olivia, and she was bleeding from an apparent head injury.

"Is she -"

Elliot couldn't bring himself to say the word, fear and dread gnawing at his stomach so severely now that he thought he might be sick. He wasn't even sure of the last time he had actually taken a breath. He _wouldn't_ breathe again until he heard Owen say that Olivia was still alive.

"She's alive. Her pulse is weak, but steady, and her breathing is even. We're going to need an ambulance though."

"I'll call."

"Let me. Just stay with her, in case she wakes up. Keep holding pressure on that head wound."

Owen used the counter as leverage to raise back up to a standing position, then immediately pulled out his cell phone. Making the necessary call, he informed Elliot that an ambulance would be at the cottage in ten minutes time. Elliot barely heard a word he said, he was so focused on Olivia.

"Liv, can you hear me? It's Elliot. I'm here, okay? I'm not going to leave you. Just hold on."

Taking her hand in his, he brought it up against the side of his face and held it there for a moment. He was trying so hard to reign in his emotions, and failing miserably – just like he'd failed her. Why had he left her? Why hadn't he fought harder to stay? It had been so obvious that she shouldn't be alone. This was all his fault.

Moving Olivia's hand away from his face, Elliot went to place a kiss in the center of her palm when something else caught his attention. There was a raw- and very fresh – scrape. One that looked quite painful, too. Reaching across her body, he carefully examined her other hand, finding a matching injury. As much as he hated to reveal anything personal about Olivia to anyone, he realized this might be important, and should be shared.

"Owen, look at this."

The other man stepped closer, and Elliot showed him Olivia's damaged palms. That was when they both had the same idea at the exact same time. It was Elliot who moved first though, gently guiding up the hem of Olivia's pants to just above the knee on first one leg, then the other. Elliot was the first to speak.

"She must have taken a fall while running. I wonder what happened? Did she trip, or was it something else?"

"I can't answer that, but I can tell you just by looking at them that she hasn't cleaned them properly."

Lowering the pant legs once more, Elliot was even more troubled. Where was that ambulance? For that matter, why hadn't Olivia woken up yet? They didn't even have a way of knowing how long she had been unconscious.

"Do you know the names of her doctors in the city, any medications she is on, things like that?"

Once again, Elliot was reminded of just what an impact his absence in Olivia's life had resulted in. At one time, he would have known all of that information better than he would have known his own, but now, he was just grasping at straws. She needed him more than ever, and he was powerless to help her.

"I'm ashamed to say I don't – we've only just recently been reunited – but I know someone who does. I can call him on my way to the hospital."

Owen was about to say something else, but he was interrupted by a knock at the door. Hurrying to answer it, he let in the pair of medics, both of whom he was quite familiar with.

"Tim, Nicole, thank you for getting here so quickly. She's in the kitchen. I didn't have time to grab my bag today, but she was unconscious when I arrived on scene."

"Is this the same woman you treated the other day who refused transport to the hospital for dehydration?"

"It is."

The two headed toward the kitchen, where Elliot reluctantly moved out of the way to allow them room to examine Olivia. He didn't go far though, watching like a hawk as they began their treatment. While Tim began taking Olivia's vital signs, Nicole pressed a gauze pad against the cut on her forehead, then wrapped additional bandaging around it to secure it and hold pressure. When she was finished, she shined a light in Olivia's eyes.

"Pupils are equal and responsive."

Tim acknowledged the assessment, then followed with his own comment.

"Her blood pressure is low, and I'm having trouble getting a line started. No sign of fever, though, and her blood oxygen levels are normal."

"Let me try starting the IV. I'll use a butterfly needle. Why don't you and Owen go and get the stretcher out of the rig, so we can get ready to transport?"

Minutes later, when the two men returned, Nicole had successfully started the IV, and Elliot was holding a bag of saline, helping it to flow wide open into Olivia's veins. Even though it wasn't much, the small gesture made him feel somewhat useful.

"What hospital are you taking her to?"

Elliot heard himself asking the question, but hadn't quite registered the sound of his own voice. As Tim and Nicole were busy securing Olivia on the stretcher, it fell to Owen to answer.

"Cape May Regional. It's the only hospital in Cape May County. It's about twenty six minutes away. I can give you directions to put into your GPS."

The panic that had only begun to ease in small degrees knowing that Olivia would soon be receiving medical care was suddenly back at extreme levels once more. Twenty six minutes to the nearest hospital? That seemed like a lifetime.

"It's okay, Elliot. The time will go by faster than you think, and Olivia is stable. You'll be at the hospital before you know it."

It was at this point that Owen apologized for not being able to accompany Elliot to the hospital. He was already late for his shift at the Veteran's Association, but had called ahead to explain. Still, there were people who were depending on him. Even so, he asked that Elliot call him as soon as he had any information on Olivia's condition, because he was worried, too.

As everyone was preparing to leave the cottage, Elliot noticed two things – the first was Olivia's cell phone on the table, and the second was the key that he had left behind the other day laying on the counter. Pocketing both items, he followed Tim and Nicole out to the ambulance. Only when Olivia was safely secured inside the rig did he get into his own SUV, and start the engine. Using the information Owen had given him, he typed it into the built in navigation system in his vehicle. He was going to need his phone to make an important call.

Pulling out into the road and taking his place behind the ambulance – now moving at a steady clip with lights flashing and siren wailing – Elliot dialed a familiar number and brought the phone to his ear. When the person he was calling answered, the tears he'd been fighting off ever since they'd found Olivia unconscious resurfaced, and he didn't bother trying to hide them from his voice.

"Don? I need your help."

* * *

Elliot arrived at the hospital, overcome with worry. His conversation with Don on the drive over had prompted him to realize a few harsh truths. Long gone were the days of his being Olivia's medical proxy or next of kin. His presence here would be only as a friend, and nothing more. While he could inquire about her condition as much as he liked, no one would be obligated to tell him anything.

Once Olivia was better though – and he had to believe that she would get better – Elliot planned to have a discussion with her about naming him as at least an emergency contact. Even if it only lasted for the duration of their time together here in Cape May, she needed someone who could advocate on her behalf if the situation should call for it. It was clear that she hadn't thought ahead for what an emergency situation like this would involve. Then again, he could easily forgive her for that, as it was more than obvious Olivia hadn't been thinking clearly for some time.

Thankfully, though, Don was on his way, and he would be bringing Fin with him. They were her current contacts, and the only two people to whom the hospital would release any information. Plus, in the wake of his absence, Olivia had made her Captain her new medical proxy, and she hadn't changed that order, even after his retirement. Unfortunately, it would take at least two and half to three hours before they would arrive.

After parking, Elliot made his way through the sliding doors that led to the emergency department and located the reception desk. He knew that no one would have any word or knowledge about Olivia even being a patient here yet, but he figured it couldn't hurt to introduce himself.

"May I help you?"

"Yes. A woman was just brought in by ambulance. Olivia Benson. I know it's too soon for you to have any information on her condition, but I just wanted you to be aware that she isn't here at the hospital alone and someone is waiting out here for her."

They woman spent a few moments typing on her keyboard, then glanced back up.

"Benson, you said?"

"Yes."

"She's not in our system yet, but if she only just arrived, that would explain why. If you give me your name, I'll be sure to find out who her doctor is and pass it along, so someone can come talk to you as soon as they know what is going on."

"Thank you. It's Elliot Stabler."

Elliot watched as the woman wrote down his name on a piece of paper just below Olivia's, then left her desk momentarily to take it to the back, presumably to the nurse's station. Relieved that he had done all he could do for now, he tried not to dwell on the fact that a name was all he had to give. Although he knew that leaving the job behind had been the best thing for him, sometimes he missed the ability he had once had to retrieve a card from his pocket. Now that he was relegated to civilian status, the authority he had once wielded no longer mattered.

He found himself a quiet corner of the waiting room and sat down in an uncomfortable chair. Bracing his elbows on his knees, Elliot buried his head in his hands. His mind was swimming with the events of the morning, and barely an hour had passed since he and Owen had found Olivia on the kitchen floor of the cottage. As much as he longed to know how she was doing, he didn't want the doctors and nurses to hurry. He hoped they would take their time, and make their examination thorough. Maybe once Don and Fin did get here, they would arrive to some positive news.

Meanwhile, back in one of the examination rooms, Olivia was receiving care. Initial X rays had already come back and ruled out a neck injury so the cervical collar she had been wearing when she was first brought in had been safely removed. Now, a nurse was helping to get the unconscious woman changed into a hospital gown so she could be sent for a CT scan to determine why she hadn't yet regained consciousness. Once that had been taken care of, the plastic surgeon on call would place stitches on the laceration above her eyebrow and close up the wound.

As the nurse gently guided Olivia's long sleeve shirt over her head, she performed her usual cursory examination. What she saw on her patient's torso and arms caused her jaw to drop and chills to spread over her entire body. Covering the unconscious woman with the gown to preserve her modesty, she headed out into the hall to call for the doctor.

"Doctor! You need to see this!"

The doctor on Olivia's case, along with another nurse entered her cubicle, wondering what could have been so urgent. All were assuming that the patient had regained consciousness. None of them could have imagined what they were about to be shown. As the nurse who had been helping Olivia change gradually lowered the gown to reveal her arms and chest, a multitude of scars came into view. It was obvious that many had been caused by cigarettes, but others looked to be in the shapes of keys, or even other metal objects.

"Just what the hell has she been through?"

The doctor's question was a rhetorical one, and whispered softly, but all who were present in the room heard it, save for the patient herself. If she had, she might have been able to provide answers.

"That's not all, Doctor. I also found this."

It was then that the nurse indicated the fresh, bloody scrapes on Olivia's hands and knees. That was the moment that the assumptions escalated into grave miscalculations, setting forth a chain of events that would ultimately do more harm than good.

"Whatever has happened, it was clear she was trying to escape. You said someone came in with her today? An Elliot Stabler? Have security detain him until the police can get here. We can't let him near her again."

* * *

Elliot was in the waiting room lost in his own torment when out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a woman in scrubs approaching. She was accompanied by a man dressed in uniform. Almost immediately, all of his senses were on high alert, and his anxiety kicked into overdrive. He hadn't expected someone to come and talk to him this soon – if at all – and he certainly hadn't been expecting to see hospital security.

Realization dawned on him, bringing with it a sick feeling that settled in the pit of his stomach. Whatever was going on, Olivia must not have regained consciousness yet, and the staff here had to have discovered her scars from her ordeal with Lewis. Combined with her fresh injuries, they had deduced that she was a victim of abuse, and assumed that _he_ was the man responsible. No doubt this security officer was here to detain him until the police arrived.

"Excuse me? Are you Elliot Stabler? If you could come with me, please."

Where he once would have caused a scene, Elliot resigned himself to cooperate for the time being. There was no one here to vouch for his identity, no badge he could stand behind. Even if she were to wake up, there was no way for Olivia to even know he was here with her. Plus, he didn't want to put the weight of this burden solely on her shoulders. She had enough to carry as it was. No, he would go with this man, and remain calm. When asked questions, he would explain the situation, and once Don arrived, there would be someone to speak on his behalf – and Olivia's. Until then, all that mattered was that she was getting the care she needed.

While he thought he had mentally prepared himself for every possible scenario, Elliot found there was one situation he hadn't considered. That was until, several minutes later, when he found himself sitting in the security office with his hands cuffed behind his back. At that point, he became a bit more vocal about his situation. While he knew he should wait until the police arrived, and that speaking out now might only serve to look incriminating on his part, he had Olivia to consider. The last thing he wanted was for someone here at the hospital to inadvertently do something to trigger her and cause more psychological damage than what waking up in a strange place was already going to do.

"Please, you have to listen to me."

Elliot's voice was desperate, but he had made certain not to begin with any platitudes or denials. All he wanted was someone to hear him. He had to get them to understand. Unfortunately, it seemed they had already made up their minds about him.

"Let me guess – she was just asking for it? What was her crime? Did she burn your dinner? Mix the colors with the whites in the laundry? What could that woman possibly have done to deserve you treating her the way you did?"

The security guard – who hadn't even bothered to reveal his name – sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. Though he hadn't physically laid a hand on him, Elliot reacted as though he had been punched in the gut. He had dedicated his entire career to putting men like the one he was currently accused of being in prison. The very thought of him ever raising a hand against a woman – even in anger - made him ill. More emphatic now, he asserted himself again.

"No! I didn't hurt her. She's been through hell, yes, but it wasn't caused by me."

Elliot paused briefly in his explanation as he considered the validity of his words. He had unwittingly just lied to this man, but only he knew that. He _had_ put Olivia through hell when he'd essentially cut her out of his life without a word, and it was only by the grace of God that she had let him back in. He'd be damned if he'd abandon her again when she needed him to fight for her.

"Do you know how many times I've heard that line of bullshit? Why don't you just do yourself a favor and shut up until the police get here?"

"Listen to me! Her name is Olivia Benson. She is a Sergeant with the NYPD. We were partners for thirteen years. Last year, she was kidnapped by a man named William Lewis. He held her captive for four days before she was rescued. That's where her scars are from."

Though he hated himself for what he was about to do, but ultimately knowing it was imperative for not only proving his innocence, but Olivia's treatment as well, Elliot pressed on.

"If you don't believe me, look her name up on the internet. There were dozens of news articles at the time she was taken. It will be all the proof you need."

The guard was eyeing him skeptically at this point, but was no longer debating him. Sensing that he was making headway, Elliot attempted to drive his point home.

"Also, our former Captain is on his way to the hospital right now. He has knowledge about her medical information for the doctors, and can not only verify my identity, but everything I've just told you."

Though it was clear that the guard still doubted his story, Elliot watched as the man clicked on the computer screen in front of him and opened the internet browser. Olivia's name was typed into the search bar, then seconds later a multitude of results were displayed. He cast his eyes away of out respect, but that still didn't erase the guilt he was feeling. Every part about this felt like a betrayal.

The guard skimmed about three articles before he came to his decision. Picking up the phone on the desk, he dialed the extension for the emergency department.

"Yes. This is Alan from Security. It's been brought to my attention that a mistake has been made regarding one of your patients, Olivia Benson. Elliot Stabler is not the one who harmed her."

* * *

Despite having offered proof that he wasn't the one responsible for Olivia's scars, it had still taken longer that Elliot would have liked to be freed from the custody of Security. Then he had to explain his story again when the police had arrived. Even after all of that, the doctor was still hesitant about allowing him in the exam room with Olivia. It was only after a consultation from the psychiatrist on call who recommended that the patient would likely respond better if someone she recognized were nearby when she awoke. In fact, it had been this new physician who had also suggested that Olivia's inability to wake was due more in part to secondary trauma response and not any serious underlying physical injury.

There were however, other concerns. In addition to low blood pressure and dehydration, the doctors had determined that Olivia was suffering from malnutrition and vitamin deficiency. They hadn't shared any of this information with Elliot yet, but were planning to admit her for at least a week so she could begin working with not only one of their psychiatrists, but a nutritionist as well.

As for the physical wounds she had sustained that morning, Olivia's scrapes had been properly cleaned, then treated with an antibiotic ointment. The cut above her eyebrow had required five stitches, and once she regained consciousness they would be better be able to assess her symptoms for the mild concussion they believe she had sustained in the process. For the time being, they were giving her fluids intravenously, and monitoring her vitals continually.

Elliot sat watching Olivia sleep, his stomach still twisted in knots. He'd sent Owen a text message about twenty minutes earlier, leaving out the details about his detainment. There wasn't much in the way of news he could relate, but he hoped to be able to give a better update soon, once Don and Fin got here. His former Captain had called not long ago, letting him know that they had just exited off the Garden State Parkway, and would be at the hospital shortly. In the meantime, Elliot found solace in the fact that there was no sense of urgency regarding Olivia's care. Certainly, if something were seriously wrong, the emergency room staff would be doing more than just monitoring her.

Olivia moaned softly, and shifted on the narrow hospital gurney. Elliot was instantly alert at the movement, his eyes sweeping over her supine form. Her eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks for a moment, then blinked against the harsh light in the room. Almost immediately, Olivia's breathing began to quicken, and the blips on the heart monitor increased as her initial confusion gave way to a panic that was entirely too real.

"No. No. NoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNo"

For the time being, it seemed as though it were the only word Olivia was capable of uttering, and the lone syllable left her lips in steady stream. The more she whispered the denial, the more her agitation grew, and it was as if she were blind and deaf to all else, including Elliot's presence.

"Olivia. Liv. Liv. Can you hear me? I'm here, Liv. I'm here."

In deep anguish, Elliot called to her, desperate to reach her. He didn't dare touch her though, no matter how much he longed to bring her comfort. To lay a hand on her now would only make things worse, and likely trigger a flashback so terrifying he feared it would be detrimental to her overall health. Seeing her reduced to this state killed him inside, for while it in no way diminished her strength in his eyes, it wounded him deeply. He'd suffered gunshot wounds that hadn't hurt this bad, and no matter how many times he tried to remind himself that what Olivia was going through wasn't about him, he couldn't deny that he was affected by this ordeal. He'd always been able to feel her pain as keenly as if it were his own, and it was no different now.

Just as he was about to try again to reach her, a nurse entered the room. Apparently they had registered Olivia's elevated heart rate out at the desk and were coming in to check on her. Elliot found he had to grit his teeth when he heard the woman's condescending tone.

"You need to calm down, Ms. Benson. You're getting yourself all worked up over nothing. You're in Cape May Regional Hospital, but we're taking good care of you, there is nothing to be scared about."

As the nurse reached out to grasp her patient's wrist to check her pulse, Olivia slapped the incoming hand away.

"Don't you dare touch me! Where are my clothes? I want to leave right now!"

"I'm sorry, Ms. Benson, but I can't let you do that."

Undeterred by her patient's resistance, the nurse again attempted to take Olivia's vital signs, this time succeeding in grasping her wrist. While she had been made aware of the on call psychiatrist's theories, she still wasn't expecting the resulting reaction. Because, the instant Olivia had felt fingers encircle her wrist, she lost the already thin grasp of reality she had been holding onto since waking up only moments before.

Fighting like a cornered wildcat, Olivia struck out in a flurry of kicks and scratches, unsure if she was making contact. She'd also made up her mind that she was willing to use her teeth as weapon for self preservation if necessary. Yanking the IV line out of her arm, Olivia scrambled off the gurney, and took off down the hall at a run, not even caring that the only thing she was wearing was a thin hospital gown. She had to get out of here. She knew she was being followed, but escape was still at the forefront of her mind.

Elliot was hot on Olivia's heels, intent on getting to her before anyone else did, or before she could cause greater harm to herself. He'd heard the call go out for security, and he'd heard the doctor call for a dose of haloperidol. He'd be damned if he would just stand idly by and do nothing while they drugged and restrained a victim – a survivor.

He found her, seconds later, beating her hands on the door that led to the waiting room, and wailing in despair. It was perfectly clear that she still wasn't in touch with reality, and lost within whatever flashback had her trapped within it's evil clutches. Positioning his body between Olivia and the oncoming medical staff, Elliot turned around and held up his palms, pleading with them to understand.

"Wait! Please, let me try and talk to her. You don't need to drug her. I believe I can reach her. She's just frightened, that's all. You startled her."

Lowering his voice several decibels, he pivoted on his heel and faced the woman who had given up trying to escape and now sobbed quietly as she sat on the floor with her knees pulled up against her chest.

"Olivia. Can you hear me? It's Elliot."

He didn't change his tone or his words, merely kept repeating the same thing over and over for several moments until finally, it seemed as though something registered.

"Elliot?"

"Yeah, Liv. It's me."

Tear-filled brown eyes raised up to meet his, and Elliot again longed for the ability to take away all of her pain.

"What happened?"

"I'll explain everything, I promise. Why don't we get you up off the floor first?"

Not wanting to startle her again, Elliot outstretched his hand with the palm up for Olivia to take. She studied it skeptically for several moments before tentatively placing her fingers in his. Once he had guided her up into a standing position, he removed his jacket and wrapped it around her in order to preserve her modesty as he led her back to the exam room she had been given. Relief settled in when he saw that only the doctor was following, and that the nurse with the unwelcome syringe had left to return to her station.

* * *

Between Elliot and the psychiatrist, the two men got Olivia settled back on the gurney with as little physical contact as possible. After getting permission from his patient, the psychiatrist pulled on a pair of gloves and grabbed some gauze and applied it to the area of Olivia's arm that was still bleeding from where she had pulled out the IV only minutes before.

"Am I hurting you at all, Ms. Benson?"

Olivia shook her head to indicate the negative, but the skepticism in her eyes was obvious. Even so, she was grateful that she hadn't found herself sedated against her will, and she knew she had Elliot to thank for that. She still couldn't remember what had happened to bring her here, all she knew as that she had one hell of a headache, and a desperate need to escape. The cottage may not exactly feel like home to her just yet, but it was all she had, and anything was better than the hospital.

"My name is Dr. Kevin Barnes. I'm a psychiatrist here at Cape May Regional."

When the doctor introduced himself and gave his title, Olivia tensed immediately. Her face became impassive, and it was obvious that she was closing herself off.

"No offense, Doctor, but I already have one psychiatrist who I barely feel comfortable talking to. What makes you think I'm going to share my life story with a complete stranger like yourself?"

"That's fine, Ms. Benson. Would you be willing to give me the name of your doctor so that I can confer with them on your treatment? Or at least tell me the names of any medications you are currently prescribed?"

It was at that moment that Elliot spoke up, not wanting to make Olivia feel pressured in any way. He could tell she was already uncomfortable with the conversation as it was, he didn't want to make things any worse.

"I can step out for a few minutes if you need me to, Olivia. Give you some privacy perhaps?"

Olivia's shake of the head was emphatic, insisting that Elliot remain exactly where he was. She may be upset with him for bringing her to the hospital in the first place, but that anger could wait. Right now, he was the only sense of familiarity she had to cling to, and she didn't want to lose that – not even for a minute.

"You can stay."

Turning to the doctor, she reluctantly gave him the information that he asked for – not because she wanted to, but because she knew it was necessary for her treatment. When she revealed that she had been prescribed lorazepam on an as needed basis in addition to the daily dose of citalopram, the doctor asked her a question.

"If you're still feeling anxious, I can order a dose of lorazepam for you right now. You have the option of taking it orally, or we can administer it to you directly through an IV."

"That won't be necessary. What I'd really like is for you to bring me the discharge papers so I can go home."

It was at this point that Dr. Barnes broke eye contact with his patient and instead shared a glance with Elliot. Even in the midst of her turmoil, Olivia was still as perceptive as ever. She felt a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach, and knew she would not like the news that this doctor was about to deliver next.

"Ms. Benson, I'm afraid we're not going to be discharging you today. In addition to my own concerns, you have significant medical issues that need to be addressed. They require that you be admitted to our facility."

"I'm fine. And it's _Sergeant_."

It was obvious to Elliot that Olivia's agitation was only increasing again. He wished that she would have consented to the medication that could help calm her, but understood her need to remain in control. If he were in her position, he's not sure he would have agreed to take it, either. What he wasn't expecting, though, was for things to take the turn they so suddenly did.

"Sergeant Benson. Yes, of course. I remember that from the article. You were promoted recently, were you not?"

Elliot sat still and silent as a stone, barely breathing as he waited for Olivia's reaction. Why had this doctor mentioned the articles? That was the worst possible thing he could have done! He watched as Olivia's expression shifted yet again – she'd experienced so many since waking little more than half an hour ago – and now the only emotion he could read in her features was anger.

"What articles?"

Olivia's voice had a dangerous quality to it as she asked the question, but only someone who knew her well would be able to decipher it. As Elliot mentally prepared for the other shoe to drop, he was also aware that his earlier attempt to save her from improper care were about to blow up in his face.

"Elliot. He explained everything. We wrongly believed that you were trying to escape an abusive situation and kept him detained until police could arrive, so he had us look up your name. He wanted us to understand that you were a trauma victim, but not the kind we thought."

Elliot held his breath again, waiting for Olivia to unleash her wrath on him. He didn't know exactly what he was expecting. To be cursed out, most definitely. Perhaps even that she would kick him out of the room - maybe even out of her life for good. The reaction he witnessed though, was more eerie and chilling than anything he could have imagined.

"I don't know what articles you are talking about, but that wasn't me. You must have me confused with someone else."

* * *

After her declaration, Olivia reclined back against the gurney, closing her eyes. The pain etched in her features was evident, as was the exhaustion written on her face. The emotional whirlwind was taking its toll on her, and it was clear she was trying to find a way to process it all. Elliot exchanged another glance with Dr. Barnes, hoping the man would have some sort of theory or suggestion on how to move forward.

"All right then, Sergeant. May I call you Olivia? Feel free to call me Kevin if that makes you feel more comfortable. I think we can drop the formalities for now."

"My name isn't Olivia. It's Rachel. Rachel Martin. Olivia Benson is my undercover alias. I don't know who told you that was my name, but they were clearly mistaken."

Dr. Barnes glanced up at Elliot for confirmation, who gave the man an imperceptible shake of his head, refuting Olivia's statement. Keeping his tone gentle, the psychiatrist tried to get through to his patient.

"Your name _is_ Olivia Benson. You were brought into the hospital this morning after falling and hitting your head. A preliminary exam revealed a multitude of scars on your torso and arms, and further tests concluded that you have a mild concussion as well as other health issues."

"I don't know what you're talking about. I don't have any scars."

Dr. Barnes stood up then, and excused himself from the room. Just prior to leaving, he explained that someone would be coming in shortly to start a new IV line while they waited on word from one of the patient floors. The admission process was already underway, it would just take awhile to get Olivia transferred upstairs to a room.

Elliot followed the doctor out, desperate for answers, but knowing he couldn't get any – not yet. That was when his phone chimed in his pocket, indicating an incoming text message. Don and Fin had just arrived at the hospital. After conferring with the reception desk, both men were allowed back to where the exam rooms were, and got to meet Dr. Barnes. As much as Elliot desperately wanted to be with them and find out more on the psychiatrist's theories regarding what was going on with Olivia's condition, he knew she needed him more.

When he walked back into the room, a nurse was there, but thankfully not the same nurse as earlier. This young woman was capably and gently starting a new IV line, having no trouble finding a vein thanks in part to the fluids Olivia had already received. When she spoke, her voice was full of apology.

"It's still going to be a bit of a wait before we can get you moved upstairs, I'm afraid. If you'd like, I can order you a tray from dietary so you can have something to eat."

"No, thank you. I'm still full from the breakfast I had earlier."

Elliot struggled not to react to Olivia's words. She was still full from the breakfast she'd had earlier? He hadn't been focused enough to pay attention when he'd been at the cottage earlier this morning, but he would be willing to bet that she hadn't eaten anything since the other day when she had kicked him out. Hoping she'd be more responsive to him, he decided to try asking her again.

"Are you sure you don't want anything? I can get you anything you'd like?"

"What I _want_ is to get out of here. So why don't you tell the doctors that I'm fine, so they'll let me go home?"

Before Elliot could answer, there was a knock on the glass partition of her room, and Dr. Barnes reappeared.

"Excuse me, Sergeant? I'm sorry to disturb you, but you have some visitors."

Don stepped around the curtain then, and that was the moment when Olivia's facade crumbled completely. She didn't deny knowing them, she didn't claim to be someone else, she didn't even pretend that her being a patient in this hospital was a mistake. Instead, her face flushed with shame and tears coursed down her cheeks.

"Don, what are you doing here?"

"I heard that you were brought to the hospital. We didn't know how much care you needed, and I'm still your emergency contact. Where else would I be?"

The older man's voice was gentle and filled with concern. He'd known that his former detective – and current successor – had been in a bad way when he'd sent her to Cape May for some time to heal, but he'd had no idea it was as bad as all this. Still it was partially why he'd sent Elliot to the seaside resort town to check in on her. That and he'd ulterior motives – he'd wanted to reunite the former partners at a time when he knew they needed one another the most.

"I'm fine, really. I just think everyone is overreacting. What I really want is to go back home – to the cottage, I mean. I'd love more than anything to return to Manhattan, but there is no point in my being there if I'm not allowed to work."

Stepping closer to the woman on the gurney, Don held out his hand. To the surprise of all the men in the room, Olivia took it and clung to it.

"Olivia, as much as I know you don't want to, you need to stay at the hospital for a few days. The doctors tell me that in addition to having a mild concussion from your fall today, your blood pressure is still dangerously low. Not to mention, you are showing signs of malnutrition that, if not addressed now, could have serious ramifications on your health down the line."

For the first time since she'd initially objected to the name over thirty minutes prior, Olivia did not argue to being addressed as such. If anything, she blanched over being informed of her condition, and lowered her head to avoid making eye contact with anyone. There was no hiding now – her secret was out. But how could she explain that she hadn't purposely been starving herself? How was she to say that the sheer thought of eating made her feel just as ill as the act itself? Would William Lewis's hold on her life ever end?

* * *

Don hadn't been able to talk with Olivia and Elliot for very long before Dr. Barnes was back in the exam room, wanting to check on his patient. He'd been very concerned about her earlier denials and was wanting to examine her further, curious to see if what she had experienced was a true dissociation, or merely a resistance to treatment.

"Excuse me, gentlemen, but if I could speak with Sergeant Benson privately for a few minutes? You're welcome to get a cup of coffee while you wait."

Regardless of what the doctor had said, it was Olivia that Don and Elliot looked to for permission to go. They weren't about to set foot outside that room and leave her alone if it would make her uncomfortable.

"It's okay."

Olivia quietly gave her consent, her voice tinged with a mix of embarrassment and exhaustion. Don stepped forward and gently patted her hand, offering reassurance.

"We won't be away for long. Plus, I need to catch Fin up on what is going on. He's here, too."

Once again, Olivia's eyes welled up with fresh tears. Fin was here? She remembered his promise to her on the phone earlier in the week when she'd called about the files, and despite all her ongoing inner torment was comforted by the fact that her friend was nearby. Though it hadn't been long since she'd seen him last, it still felt good to know that someone cared.

Alone now with Dr. Barnes, Olivia resigned herself to the fact that she was going to have to talk about _something_. However, she made up her mind that it would only be to answer questions directed her – she wouldn't volunteer any information. It was bad enough that they were going to be admitting her to this awful place, a decision she still planned to fight tooth and nail.

Pulling the chair that Elliot had previously been using closer to the gurney, Dr. Barnes sat down and studied Olivia with a kind expression. Since he'd last been in the room, he'd had a video call with Dr. Lindstrom, who had shed some light on the horrors the woman had been through in the past year. What the other psychiatrist had not been aware of, however, was his own patient's declining health due to her inability to eat regularly. Normally it would be the medical doctor who would explain the treatment plan, but as Olivia appeared to be responding to him – even if it hadn't all been positive- it had fallen on him to share the news.

"I don't know if your friend has explained anything to you, Sergeant, but I'd like to talk to you about exactly why we'll be admitting you to the hospital for several days."

Sighing, Olivia nodded subtly, indicating that he should continue. She reflexively clutched the blanket tighter, as though clinging to the scratchy cotton fabric would somehow soften the blow of the words she didn't want to hear.

"As you may have already heard mentioned, you are severely dehydrated, and your blood pressure is dangerously low. I'm actually surprised you haven't experienced more fainting spells than what were reported."

Olivia said nothing, but a flush stained her cheeks as she averted her gaze. Dr. Barnes immediately picked up on the body language and surmised that she _had_ been feeling poorly, but had simply opted not to say anything.

"I want you to know, I spoke with Dr. Lindstrom. He explained a few things to me, including that you have some difficulty when it comes to taking medications. If you'd like, I can try to arrange that your dosages are administered through your IV line, or see if we can find an oral suspension for you to take whenever possible."

Though she had tried to remain impassive, Olivia couldn't hide her surprise. There was a way to take her medication without swallowing a pill? Why hadn't Dr. Lindstrom ever informed her of that?

"Though the tablets are more widely used, the citalopram is available in an oral suspension liquid. Is that something you would be interested in trying?"

Unable to find her voice, Olivia merely nodded.

"All right then. I'll make the change to your regimen now, and you'll begin receiving that new form tonight. We'll see how you respond, and if you prefer the liquid to the tablets, either I or Dr. Lindstrom can see that you get a new prescription once you are discharged."

Dr. Barnes tapped the screen of his tablet for a few moments, then cleared his throat before speaking again.

"Now, as far as the lorazepam goes, how often are you using that?"

"Only when absolutely necessary. I don't like taking anything that will make me feel like I'm not in control."

Olivia bit her lip then, knowing she had unwittingly revealed something she hadn't meant to. This would undoubtedly open the door for deeper conversation – one that she wasn't ready for. When would she learn to keep her mouth shut?

"Control is very important to you, isn't it?"

"I don't want to talk about that."

Knowing that the woman had been through enough, and it was just barely noon, Dr. Barnes wisely let the subject drop for the time being.

"That's fine, we can wait. There is something I needed to tell you about your blood test results anyway."

* * *

Dr. Barnes was still speaking, but Olivia couldn't hear anything beyond the constant rushing sound in her ears. The words 'blood test results' seemed to linger in the room, haunting and foreign. To her fragmented thoughts, that could mean one thing and one thing only – she was pregnant. Either that, or she had contracted some form of a transmittable disease.

As darkness descended, Olivia struggled to breathe when the memories from only a few weeks earlier came flooding back at full force. She was doubting herself completely now, and no longer knew what was legitimately real, and what illusions she had manifested into reality in order to protect herself. What exactly had happened at the Red Hook Granary?

NO. After several moments of intense and paralyzing panic, logic prevailed. While Olivia didn't remember exactly what exams she had undergone at the hospital after Lewis had shot himself, she did recall their results – she had not been raped. Why then, was there a problem with her blood tests now?

Breathing gradually became easier, and over time, Olivia vaguely became aware of the oxygen mask that had been placed over her nose and mouth. Through her haze of confusion, she heard Dr. Barnes' voice once more.

"That's it, Sergeant. Just take slow, even breaths."

Blinking rapidly to chase away the tears burning behind her eyelids, Olivia tried to reign in what little remained of her already fragile hold on her emotions. She didn't want to break down here, though. She'd already humiliated herself enough today to last a lifetime. Leveling her gaze once more on Dr. Barnes, she waited for him to continue. Instead, though, the psychiatrist brought forth a suggestion he wasn't certain his patient was willing to hear, but it was something he felt was necessary – now more than ever.

"Forgive me for saying so, Sergeant, but I do wish you'd reconsider and allow us to administer a mild sedative. This is the second intense flashback you've had since your arrival. I know that no medication can erase your memories, but I really do have your best interest in mind."

"I don't need a sedative. Like I said, what I _need_ is to go home. I'm not staying in the hospital. I've told you that I'm fine. Get me whatever forms you need to get that say I'm walking out against medical advice, but I'm leaving here today."

It was clear that her latest flashback had caused Olivia to forget that she had already agreed – albeit reluctantly – to stay in the hospital for a few days to get the treatment required. However, as she had not yet signed any consent forms, there was nothing stopping her now from changing her mind and signing herself out. It would be a bit extreme, but Dr. Barnes felt that it was imperative now to make her admission medically necessary. If they were to release her, she'd most certainly end up back in the emergency department – or worse – within a short span of time.

As he stepped back out into the hall, Dr. Barnes ran into the two men who had been in Sergeant Benson's room previously. They were now joined by a third. Intercepting the group before they could go into Olivia's room, he motioned for the other treating physician to join them as he led everyone to a small meeting room just down the hallway.

"What's going on? Is Olivia all right?"

The panic was evident in Elliot's voice as he questioned both doctors, looking back and forth between each of them as he waited for an answer. Though they hadn't spoken, it was clear from their expressions that Don and Fin shared his anxiety.

"While we're uncertain as to the trigger, she did suffer another flashback. She hyperventilated, and we had to place her on oxygen temporarily to get her levels stabilized."

Dr. Barnes continued to relate what had happened in their absence.

"She was doing fine at first, and even engaged in conversation. I would go so far as to say she was cooperative. While I won't go into extreme detail, I will tell you that we discussed medication options, and she seemed open to them."

The three men were now more curious, wondering what could have caused such an abrupt and sudden change. Granted, Olivia had already been in a precarious mental state even before the doctor had spoken to her. Elliot had even witnessed when she had denied her own identity. They waited for the doctor to go on.

"I was simply explaining to her why we needed to admit her to the hospital. Everything was going fine until I brought up matter of her blood test results."

Elliot groaned involuntarily, understanding immediately the direction Olivia's mind had gone. His heart ached for her, and not for the first time, he wished for the ability to rewind time and prevent her from ever having lived through any of the horrors she'd had to face.

"How is she doing now?"

That question was voiced by Don, although he had a feeling he already knew the answer.

"She's refused a mild sedative for the second time, and she's asking to be brought forms to sign herself out of the hospital against medical advice. Essentially, she's denying that there is anything wrong, and insisting that we release her."

The doctor gave the men a few minutes to process the information before moving on. The next thing he had to ask was delving into delicate territory, and he wasn't sure exactly how they would react.

"We believe it is necessary for her to be admitted for a minimum of one week, just for her medical issues alone. As far as the psychiatric problems she is experiencing, they present another concern. I hate to make any of you feel like you are betraying your friend, but I must ask – is there anything that any of you have witnessed that make you doubt Sergeant Benson's ability to care for herself?"

* * *

After the question had been put into the room, all eyes fell on Elliot. He shifted uncomfortably, truly torn in his decision. He wanted to make the best possible decision for Olivia, but he also hated to do anything that would fracture the relationship that he was desperately trying to repair. But, he also would never forgive himself if he said nothing and something were to happen as a result of that. Scrubbing his palms over his face, he exhaled sharply.

"I've seen several things just this week alone that indicate she needs more help than I can give."

Even though it felt like he was committing the ultimate betrayal, Elliot began relating some of the things he had seen in Olivia's behavior since their reunion on Sunday night.

"She's barely been eating, and what little she does eat often makes her sick afterward. There was even one occasion where she gave the illusion of having eaten when I know for a fact that she skipped the meal."

Elliot continued to narrate, including describing some things he'd only witnessed second hand, like the night terrors. He became increasingly emotional as he detailed the way she had driven herself on their run, only to pass out after. When he explained her subsequent disappearances, and the way Olivia had lashed out at him, there was a clear tremor in his voice. That became even more apparent as he shared his theory that Olivia had walked into the ocean fully clothed. He didn't dare to glance at Don and Fin while he was speaking, knowing the looks of alarm on their faces would only serve to break him further.

"There is someone else who can verify some of what I'm telling you. Owen Winter is a neighbor, and he helped out not only when she fainted the first time, but kept an eye on Olivia after she asked me to leave. He was the one who was with me this morning when I found her."

Dr. Barnes took in this new information, then questioned Elliot again.

"Has Owen said anything to you specifically that makes you think what he has to add would be valuable?"

Elliot brushed his palm against the back of his neck, again feeling torn. But he reminded himself again that as much as he hated himself for doing this, the guilt would be insurmountable if he did nothing and something happened to Olivia as a result.

"He told me he actually saw Olivia walk into the ocean, fully clothed. She came back out again on her own, but he said that she went in until the water was rather deep."

Making a few notes, Dr. Barnes continued.

"I know this next question will be difficult for you to answer, and I'm sorry that I even have to ask it, but it is necessary. Has Sergeant Benson specifically said anything to you about wanting to die, or expressed a desire to physically harm herself?"

This, at least, was something Eliot could answer with confidence.

"No. She's been despondent, yes. I would even say that she's been depressed. But she's been through not just one, but two extreme traumas in less than a year. On top of all of that, she's been told that she had to step away from the career that she loves and has devoted her life to. Anyone would be a mess after that."

After he'd done so much damage in destroying her credibility, Elliot felt the need to defend Olivia somewhat. Yes, he firmly believed she needed help, but he hadn't set out to assassinate her character. What was happening now wasn't her fault. Things had all just snowballed beyond the grasp of her control. On top of that, her health was now at risk in addition to her mental state. Frustrated with all the questions and no answers, Elliot attempted to turn the tables.

"What exactly is going on? Why do you need to know all of this, especially if Olivia plans to sign herself out anyway?"

After exchanging a glance with his colleague, Dr. Barnes turned to the three men. All wore matching looks of confusion.

"We would like to ask that one of you commit Sergeant Benson to the hospital for treatment, since we don't believe she is capable of making the decision on her own."

Though he had been silent for the majority of the conversation, Don Cragen chose that moment to speak up. He'd had no idea that Olivia was suffering as much as she was, and hearing the stories of her internal pain had been heartbreaking. If he'd known, he never would have sent her so far away from the city she called home, even with Elliot for company.

"I'll do it. According to the forms I brought with me, I'm her current emergency contact and medical proxy. They state that I'm able to make decisions on her behalf. But please, can we at least _try_ and convince her again? I'd hate to make her do anything against her will."

"We can try, perhaps one of you will be able to persuade her. If not though, we will need you to sign the form. She needs not only the psychiatric care, but the medical intervention as well."

The group of men left the meeting room, with Elliot, Don, and Fin all heading straight to check on Olivia. When they entered her cubicle, they found her sitting up on the edge of the gurney, her feet dangling over the side. She was scanning the room, as though searching for something. Upon hearing the incoming footsteps, she startled involuntarily, and then flushed in embarrassment. Concerned that she had removed the oxygen without permission, Elliot approached the woman on the narrow bed.

"Liv, what are you looking for?"

"My clothes. As soon as they bring me the forms and get this godforsaken IV out of my arm, I'm getting out of here. I'll walk back to the cottage if I have to, but I'm not staying in the hospital."

Not sure how to break the news to her, or even how to begin convincing her that she needed to stay, Elliot opted to start with the truth.

"We're over fifteen miles away from the cottage, Liv. It would take you nearly five hours to walk that distance. Longer given your current condition. Plus, I really think you should listen to the doctors."

"I don't really care what you think. I don't want to stay here."

Seeing that this was going nowhere, Fin decided to try.

"No one wants to stay in the hospital, Liv, but the doctor tells us you are really sick, and need to stay. I'd hate for you to leave and for something to happen you."

Olivia laughed then, but there was no humor in her tone. If anything, only bitterness could be detected.

"Something already happened to me. Or have you forgotten already? I'm fine. What I _need_ is for everyone to stop trying to tell me how I should live my life. Now, if none of you are going to help me, I think you should all leave."

* * *

Not wanting to upset Olivia further, the three men did as she had requested. It was with a heavy heart that Don signed the forms admitting her to the hospital, and her shouts of anger and frustration as she was given the news could be heard in the hall, wounding them all deeply. Though they all wanted to stay longer and check on her after she was settled in a room, they knew they wouldn't be welcome at least until tomorrow.

As the men made their way out of the hospital, Olivia was becoming more and more combative. A room had finally become available on one of the floors upstairs, and someone had come to transfer her. Though he had hoped to avoid it at all costs, Dr. Barnes was left no choice but to administer a mild sedative in order to keep his patient from inadvertently hurting herself. He made every effort to consider her condition and prior traumas though, and prescribed a low dose of lorazepam administered through her IV line. It was something that would calm her without any excessive residual grogginess, and for the most part, she would also remain alert and conscious.

The next thing Olivia knew, she was settled in a new room. She had, however, been mildly relieved to see that she hadn't been taken to a locked ward, but instead placed on a traditional hospital unit. On top of that, her room was private, which brought her a small amount of consolation. At least this way, when the night terrors came, she didn't have to worry about disturbing a roommate. Her only humiliation would come from the rest of the staff hearing her.

As the reality of her situation sunk in, the tears came in full force, and Olivia was overwhelmed by the feelings of hurt and betrayal. How could they do this to her? All of them – Elliot, Fin, and Don knew her hatred for hospitals. How could they not only admit her to one not only against her will, but in a city that was foreign to her? How many times did she have to say she was fine before someone believed her?

A noise from the hallway captured her attention, and she turned her head in the direction of the door, instantly alert. When she realized it was only an orderly bearing a tray, Olivia relaxed, but the relief was only temporary. After everything she had been through today, food was the last thing on her mind. The sheer thought of eating anything at this point made her ill. At the same time, she knew that refusal would only earn her a label as being uncooperative, and didn't want to learn what ramifications that would ultimately result in.

The orderly placed the tray on the rolling table next to her bed, then positioned it over her lap. Giving her a kind smile, he left the room again. Olivia kept silent throughout the exchange, holding her tongue. She had plenty she wanted to say, but knew that this middle man was not the one on whom to unleash her anger. He was merely doing his assigned job, and did not deserve her venom. Now, if she were to see Elliot, Don, or Fin right now – or even Dr. Barnes – they would certainly get an earful.

Using what little strength she possessed after the exhausting day she'd had so far, Olivia pushed the tray table away. She could care less what was under the plastic cloche hiding the plate. They may have forced her to stay, but they couldn't force her to eat. While it hadn't been intentional on her part before – now it was a battle of wills – and it was a battle she intended to win.

While Olivia was adjusting to the hospital, albeit begrudgingly, it was a broken hearted Elliot who had driven back to the motel. Prior to leaving, he'd given Don and Fin the name of the place he was staying, as they'd both said they had no intention of leaving just yet. The two men offered to go and pick up some food for the three of them to share and meet Elliot back at the motel. Don had no interest on staying at the cottage, insisting that it was 'Olivia's home' for the time being, and he didn't want to intrude.

Though he hadn't mentioned it to anyone, Elliot had made a few stops of his own on the drive back. He'd also taken the time to call Owen, in order to relate the events of the morning and afternoon. Now, he sat on the bed of his room, elbows braced on his knees, hands clasped behind his neck. He was staring at the bottle of whiskey that now resided on his nightstand, that he had yet to open. His mind was swirling the memories of the day, each one haunting in their own right. The guilt was pouring in from all sides, and all he could think of was the other night when he had read the details of everything Olivia had been through.

He'd been getting glimpses all week, but today he had truly witnessed just how much she was suffering. To have seen her boldly deny not only her own assault, but her very identity had nearly broken him. What hurt worse was knowing that she believed she had to go through it all alone.

A knock interrupted his downward spiral, and as if on autopilot, Elliot padded toward the door to answer it. Don was on the other side, a paper bag in his hands. Forgetting about his earlier purchase, Elliot stepped back to allow his sponsor access into the room, not realizing that Don would immediately zero in on the whiskey.

"Have you opened the bottle, son?"

Filled with shame, Elliot shook his head.

"I haven't. I couldn't fail her again."

Don picked up the whiskey, then carried it into the bathroom. Uncapping it, he dumped the contents down the drain, then threw the bottle away. Returning to the main room, he wrapped an arm around Elliot's shoulders, and nudged him toward the door.

"Come on. The food can wait until later. Let's get you to a meeting. I'll go with you."


	8. Resistant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I want to thank LivBensonStabler for previewing this for me, and for always being my late night sounding board. Second, this chapter goes out to LivEinziger, who is celebrating a birthday today.

**Disclaimer: SVU and all of its characters were created by and are the property of Dick Wolf. I make no profit with this story, which is my own original work.**

* * *

Elliot listened to the drone of voices, not really paying attention. It dawned on him that these meetings were all the same. Regardless of the city, they all took place in nondescript rooms in church basements or community halls. He wasn't exactly sure why he had let Don bring him here, this wasn't where he needed to be. This wasn't helping Olivia. He needed to be at the hospital, but she wouldn't want to see him. He had failed her so many times already, and he was terrified that she would view today as the ultimate betrayal. Hours had passed since he'd first arrived at the cottage hoping to have breakfast with her, and still the image of her unresponsive on the floor was the first thing he saw every time he closed his eyes. In the same vein, he was equally haunted by her breakdown that he'd witnessed at the hospital, and would never forget the shouts of frustration and despair that had echoed down the hall as they'd walked away, having to leave her behind for her own good.

Logically, he knew that he was in the right place. Falling off the wagon right now wouldn't help him, and it certainly wouldn't help Olivia. Still, after everything that had happened today, the feelings of guilt were so intense that the urge to drink had been overwhelming.

A hand on his shoulder brought Elliot back to the present, and he blinked a few times to focus on his surroundings. It was his turn to speak. What could he even begin to say that would adequately describe the turmoil that he was feeling inside? A part of him felt like a traitor revealing such personal details to complete strangers, but there was a reason for the second A in the name of the group. There was a certain degree of comfort to be found here. While some situations called for the familiar, others demanded anonymity. Clearing his throat, he tried to find the words he longed to say. As always, he began with an introduction.

"Hi. My name is Elliot, and I'm an alcoholic."

Murmured greetings echoed from the people sitting in a circle around him, and Elliot exhaled once more. He could do this. He _needed_ to do this.

"I've been sober for a little over two and half years, but have almost faltered twice now in the span of a little less than a week. I don't want to go into too much detail – only because I'm protecting someone else's privacy – but all I'll say is that I recently reconnected with a friend who has been through hell."

Licking his lips, Elliot noticed Don's encouraging nod out of the corner of his eye.

"I worked together closely with this person for over thirteen years. Something happened that made me have to leave her suddenly, but I never stopped caring about her. I didn't learn about what she'd been through until after I'd seen her again, and all I will say about it is that you wouldn't wish it on your worst enemy."

As he became increasingly more emotional, Elliot choked down the lump in his throat and tried to continue. The words were flowing more freely now, and he was unaware as his hands clenched into fists in his lap.

"Through no ones fault, she was hurt again today when medical conditions interfered with what she's already dealing with on other levels. She has to stay in the hospital for a few days, but seeing her like that really got to me."

Now it was admission time. Too ashamed to look anyone in the eye, Elliot cast his gaze toward his shoes.

"I first craved a drink after reading about what she had been through. I went to a meeting willingly then – I knew I needed to stay strong for not only her, but myself as well. But this afternoon, I had a moment of weakness. I bought a bottle of whiskey. I don't know what I would have done had my sponsor not stopped by."

Sensing that he was done with his tale, the other members began to offer their valuable input. The first to speak was an older man. The hat he wore identified him as a Vietnam veteran, and though it was obvious he'd had his own share of troubles in life, his eyes were kind.

"You may have bought the alcohol, but you didn't drink it. It was a small misstep, but you still possess the strength to stay sober. Don't doubt yourself too much."

The voices around the room echoed the sentiment, clearly in agreement with what the senior member of the group had said. Even though he hadn't been in search of absolution, Elliot felt as though a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. It hadn't negated his guilt completely, but some of the self deprecation he had been feeling had lessened somewhat. He was certain now that he'd be able to shift his focus away from himself and onto Olivia. Not that he'd ignore his own well being, but he wouldn't wallow in his emotions to the degree of melancholy that would find him sinking back into the bottle. He couldn't do that to his family, he couldn't do that to Don, and he couldn't do that to Olivia. The most important of all, however, was that he couldn't do that to himself.

* * *

On the other side of town at the hospital, Olivia was plotting her escape. The tranquilizer they had given her earlier had mostly worn off by now, but she was still feeling somewhat mellow from having had it injected into her bloodstream. However, the sedating effects of the lorazepam were no match for the fury still raging through her veins. Granted, she was feeling a plethora of emotions at the moment, and they were all encompassing, but anger still remained at the forefront. It even ranked above the hurt and betrayal that had wounded her deeply earlier. She couldn't allow herself to dwell on those right now, lest they overwhelm her and she might give in to her weakness and cry. Breaking down in public once today had been humiliating enough.

There was still entirely too much activity on the floor to do anything now, but later, she would make her move. The nurse who had been in the room earlier – and expressed obvious disappointment that she hadn't touched her food – had returned her phone and informed her that her clothes were safely stored in the closet by the door. That was when Olivia realized that her dilemma was more serious than she had previously considered.

Remembering that she had been brought in by ambulance, it dawned on Olivia that she had no other clothes here with her. She didn't even have access to a pair of shoes. For that matter, she had no money, either. Her wallet was still back at the cottage, and with it were all forms of identification and any other means that would help her get anywhere. Whether she liked it or not, she was stuck here – at least for tonight.

As much as it pained her to type out the message – because the last thing she wanted to do right now was ask Elliot Stabler for _anything_ – Olivia sent a text to her former partner. Keeping the note brief, she requested that he pack a few of her things into a bag and either drop it off at the hospital himself, or give it to Owen to deliver. Whichever method he chose, she made certain to emphasize that she was not ready to see him in person just yet.

Once she got confirmation that Elliot would do this favor for her, Olivia comprised her list. She was thorough in her request, as her stay was supposed to last for several days at least, and gave no indication that she planned to abscond from hospital custody as soon as she was able.

The first thing she asked for was a few days worth of comfortable clothes, complaining that the hospital gown was too revealing and didn't offer any privacy. To accompany the desired items, she also requested that Elliot bring her shoes. Olivia figured that would be benign, as she'd need something to wear home upon her discharge.

Next, she listed some personal items, although the thought of Elliot going through her bathroom was more embarrassing than him going through her dresser drawers. But the last things she wanted to deal with were standard issue deodorant, toothpaste, and other toiletries. She preferred to have her own supplies.

Moving on to material selections, she asked for her tablet. In all reality, she would have preferred to have her laptop as well, but she didn't want to send up any red flags. Last but not least, she made sure that Elliot would remember to bring the charging cords for both her tablet and her phone, in addition to her purse and keys.

After receiving confirmation that everything she had asked for would be delivered by the following morning, Olivia turned her phone off. There was nothing else she needed it for tonight. In the grand scheme of things, it was still quite early, but she needed time to think.

With the thoughts cycling through her brain at the speed of a hundred miles a minute, Olivia tried to calm herself by fiddling with her hospital bracelets. It wasn't much, but it was the only means of distraction she had. She didn't want to watch television, and with the fucking IV still inserted in her vein, getting up and pacing wasn't an option, either.

After some time, it dawned on Olivia that she had three bracelets circling her wrist, when she was usually accustomed to only having two. One bore the usual information, such as her name and date of birth. The second she recognized from it's red color as an allergy band, identifying her adverse reaction to penicillin. The third though, she had only ever seen on the job when visiting elderly patients in hospitals or care homes. It was bright yellow, and in bold letters spelled out the words "Fall Risk".

Fall risk? How the fuck was she considered a fall risk? She was no senior citizen, and she was perfectly capable of walking on her own! Just what had Elliot told them about her? How else had he betrayed her? Okay, so she'd had a few dizzy spells, but it was nothing she couldn't handle.

Before she could get lost to her anger, Olivia was interrupted by a noise. Startled, she looked toward the hall to see an aide pushing a small monitor mounted on a wheeled stand through the door. Resigning herself to the intrusion, she prepared to have her vitals taken, and likely be asked even more personal questions that she didn't want to answer.

"Good evening, Ms. Benson. I'm April, and I'm the aide assigned to your care. Before I take your vitals, did you need to use the bathroom?"

Olivia was about to say no, but realized that she had not gone since before her run that morning. The uncomfortable pressure she had been feeling for some time was no doubt partly because of her full bladder. Though she'd not had anything to drink, the IV had been running consistently to ensure that she stayed hydrated.

"I do, but I don't want any help. I can do it on my own."

April gave a smile that was kind, and not condescending in the slightest. It seemed that she truly understood the motivation behind Olivia's defiance, and perhaps that was what prompted the Sergeant's eventual acquiescence. Dizzy or not, she was still very tired from the day's events, and the very thought of trying to manage the IV pole, it's accompanying power cord and subsequent tubing was exhausting in itself.

After several minutes, Olivia was situated back in bed. She would never admit it out loud, but she had experienced dizziness on more than one occasion during her short bathroom journey. Granted, out of all people, April was probably one of few who she should mention the feeling to, but she was going to keep her mouth shut. The last thing she needed was more medication shoved down her throat.

"I noticed you haven't been drinking any of your water, Ms. Benson. If you'd like, I can get you something else. Would you prefer some juice perhaps?"

Olivia was about to say no, but then remembered Owen's advice from the other day. She needed to stay hydrated to help combat the low blood pressure. She made a request for some cranberry juice, then leaned back against the pillows to wait.

Minutes later, April reappeared, bearing two small cartons of the tart red liquid. After ensuring that her patient was comfortable, she reminded her that she would be there until eleven that night, and to press her call button if she needed anything. Her parting words brought Olivia no comfort.

"Dinner trays should be brought around in about an hour."

Sipping her juice in silence, Olivia's dark mood returned in full force. There was no way in hell she was eating anything served in this place. While it had once stemmed from a pure lack of appetite, now it was something else entirely. She was officially refusing to eat out of protest – and she wouldn't eat again until someone got her out of this godforsaken hospital.

* * *

Elliot had gotten the text from Olivia while he and Don were sipping on coffee and socializing a bit after the meeting had ended. After draining their cups, they made their exit, and once in Don's car, headed straight for the cottage. As they were driving, it occurred to Elliot that Olivia didn't have any travel bags with her in which he could pack her things, only her large suitcases and trunk. When he mentioned that to his former Captain and current sponsor, the man made a quick detour to a nearby store so a purchase could be made.

It hadn't taken Elliot long to find what he needed. Though he was certain Olivia would deem the gift as too extravagant, and insist on paying him back, he thought the bag that he'd bought her was perfect. It was spacious enough to contain several days worth of clothing, plus a cushioned pouch for electronics and their charging cords. He'd even managed to find a small clear bag to accompany it that would hold all of her toiletries, and keep them from spilling their contents inside the larger compartment.

Upon arriving at the cottage, Elliot noticed two things as he made his way up the walk. The first was the long forgotten breakfast that had been abandoned just outside the door in his haste to get inside that morning, and the second was what appeared to be a recent delivery. Scanning the box, he noticed it was from the local grocery store, so he picked it up to bring inside with him.

Though he hated to snoop through anything belonging to Olivia, Elliot's first thought was to check and make sure that nothing in the box was perishable. So, he reluctantly opened it, having mixed feelings when he discovered that the contents revealed nothing but bouillon granules to make broth, cup of soup, and tea. He had hoped to find more in the way of actual food, but it appeared Olivia's appetite was still evading her. He said a brief prayer that she would at least make an effort to eat during her hospital stay, because any alternative methods of infusing nutrition would not be pleasant.

Feeling a reassuring hand on his shoulder, Elliot turned to face the man standing next to him. He'd been so lost in his own thoughts that he'd completely forgotten Don was there. Blinking rapidly, he tried to focus on what the other man was saying.

"It's okay, son. Let me take care of this. You go upstairs and get the things that she asked for."

Mechanically following the instructions he'd been given, Elliot headed for the stairs. As he reached the top step, he could have sworn he'd heard a knock at the door, but easily dismissed it. He was too distracted by the fact that he was about to trespass beyond the threshold into Olivia's sanctuary. Though it was not his first time setting foot in her bedroom, the memory of his last moments there and their subsequent fight were not lost on him. To go in there now – even if by her very instruction – felt like a betrayal.

Not wanting to linger too long, he moved about the room swiftly and efficiently. He kept each drawer open only as long as necessary, and perfunctorily added each article of clothing as though this were a task he were completing for a total stranger, and not someone whom he cared for deeply. At this moment in time, he needed to maintain a level of detachment to keep himself from breaking down. The words from the earlier message still resonated with him deeply – the fact that Olivia didn't want to see him. Elliot wasn't sure if she was being stubborn, or if perhaps she blamed him in part for her current inpatient status.

As much as it hurt, though, he'd welcome her anger. Anything was better so long as she was still here and fighting. His own self blame and recriminations would just have to wait. Then again, as he had been reminded tonight, he couldn't stop taking care of himself just because he was caring for someone else. If anything, it meant he needed to maintain his own care even more, because Olivia would need him to be healthy. He planned to use these days during her hospital stay to attend meetings daily, and get himself back in top form, so that when she was discharged, he could give her the support she truly needed.

With the task of procuring clothing finished, Elliot next moved on to Olivia's nightstand, where he easily found her tablet and the two charging cords that she had requested. His last stop was the adjoining bathroom, where he felt like even more of an intruder. Once again moving as quickly as possible, he packed the essential items she would be needing, then got ready to zip the bag closed. As an afterthought, he grabbed the hairbrush from its spot on the side of the sink. Olivia hadn't mentioned it, but he supposed it had just been an oversight. Finding a few hair ties in a nearby basket, he wrapped them around base of the handle, and tossed it into the travel bag.

As he was making his way back downstairs, Elliot could have sworn he heard two voices engaging in conversation. That was why he wasn't entirely shocked to find Owen standing in the kitchen by the time he'd reached the lower level. It seemed the neighbor had noticed the additional car in the driveway and come next door to inquire about Olivia's condition. Once he'd understood what was going on, he had offered to deliver the bag to her personally. Tomorrow was his off day, but he had an appointment with a doctor at the hospital, so he would be there anyway.

Though he was initially hesitant to agree, Elliot ultimately gave in. He knew that Olivia would never consent to see him or Don right now, and it was even debatable that she'd let Fin near her. Without a doubt, she held all three of them responsible for her current situation, and would need at least a day or more to cool off.

Fortunately, since it was an involuntary admission, Don was able to get updates from the nurses. He'd apparently called to check in, and reported that so far, Olivia had been resistant to treatment. She hadn't eaten any of her lunch, had very nearly refused assistance to the bathroom, and while the dinner trays had only just been delivered moments before, she had insisted she didn't want hers. The only thing she'd ingested since being moved up to her room had been two small servings of cranberry juice.

In the wake of the news, all of the men wore somber expressions. Granted, they knew that Olivia's transformation wouldn't happen overnight, but they had all been hoping that once among strangers, she would at least be more cooperative than combative. If anything, it seemed that her stubbornness had only intensified.

As they said their farewells, the men shook hands. Elliot passed Owen the bag meant for Olivia, even though it pained him to do so. He'd almost forgotten, but at the last minute, he remembered to include her purse, knowing that she had no identification with her at the hospital. Then, they all headed for the door. Once the cottage was securely locked up again, Owen returned to his own home next door, while Don and Elliot made their way back to the motel. Besides Fin, there was a long forgotten dinner waiting for them there.

* * *

Olivia stirred restlessly in her hospital bed. The night had been seemingly endless, as she hadn't even bothered trying to sleep. Instead, she had lain awake the entire time, trying to plot her eventual escape. She had, however, feigned slumber whenever anyone would come into her room. The last thing she wanted or needed was to be given another tranquilizer. Once yesterday had been more than enough.

As she continued to stare at the clock on the wall, dread began to sink into the pit of her stomach. It was nearing seven in the morning, which likely meant another shift change. A new team would be assigned to her care, and there would be even more annoying questions to answer. She was getting sick and tired of having to explain all the time. Couldn't they just look at the report from the shift before? For that matter, why didn't they call _Elliot_? He apparently had no problem telling her life story to complete strangers. Swallowing down her rising anger before it would consume her whole, Olivia tried to focus on the matter at hand – the new nurse and aide who would be coming on duty.

If that weren't annoying enough to deal with, it also meant that breakfast trays would be delivered shortly. The thought of having to justify for a third time why she wasn't interested in the meals they had to offer was exhausting in itself, and she wished they would just stop trying already.

However, if all went according to plan, she wouldn't be waking up in this hellhole tomorrow morning. She would be getting out of here, and once she did, she _wasn't_ going back to the cottage. It would be too easy for Elliot, Don or Fin to find her there. No, she would have to find somewhere else to stay for awhile. At least until she could think more clearly.

A sound from the hall interrupted her thoughts, and Olivia gave the impression that she was just waking up as an unfamiliar aide came into her room. Although this man gave her his name, it didn't register in her mind, and she just shrugged noncommittally in acknowledgment. Begrudgingly, she offered her arm so her blood pressure could be measured and opened her mouth so her temperature could be taken. The ritual of taking her vital signs only lasted a few minutes, and just when she was about to sigh in relief that she would be left on her own once again, the unwelcome intruder inquired to see if she needed assistance in using the bathroom. As much as she wanted to refuse the help, Olivia knew she could not risk having a fall now. An injury would only delay her escape.

To Olivia's surprise, this aide had a different method than the previous ones she'd dealt with. Rather than try and push the cumbersome IV pole on it's wheeled stand while trying to assist her in the process, he simply paused the flow and temporarily disconnected the apparatus. The result was a short length of tubing dangling limply from her arm, but Olivia did have to admit this made things much easier. Though she didn't have access to some of the items she would have preferred to use at the moment – like a toothbrush and her facial cleanser – she did take a few moments to at least splash some water on her face in an attempt to feel more human. When she'd caught sight of herself in the mirror, she'd barely recognized her own reflection – not that she looked in a mirror that often these days. The other thing that she found surprising was the neat line of stitches above her one eyebrow, along with its accompanying bruise. She didn't remember getting stitches, but her frequent headaches did seem consistent with a head injury. She just didn't have the energy to ask anyone about it.

Once she was settled back in bed, the aide reconnected the tubing to the IV and made sure that his patient was comfortable. He also informed her that breakfast would be in shortly. As she'd been admitted later in the afternoon the day before, she hadn't had the opportunity to make her own menu selections yet, but she would get the option to do so at the morning meal for not only the rest of the day, but tomorrow as well. Olivia could have cared less, but managed to nod as though she understood.

Despite all her efforts to fight sleep, she must have dozed off at some point, because the next thing Olivia knew, she was startled awake when a tray was plunked down unceremoniously on her bedside table. Just as she'd predicted, the aromas from under the plastic cloche reached her nose, and almost immediately, nausea began to set in. She didn't need to lift that lid to know that she'd been sent a 'traditional' breakfast of bacon and eggs. There was no way in hell she was going to touch that.

Curiosity continued to get the better of her though, so she allowed her eyes to skim over the remainder of the tray's contents – there were a few packets of butter and jelly, so she surmised that toast must be included somewhere. Also, there was a covered bowl that she predicted to hold either oatmeal or cream of wheat. Last but not least, a single serving carton of orange juice sat next to a cup of steaming coffee. From what she could smell of it, it was a weak brew indeed.

With a shaking hand, Olivia reached for the orange juice. She shook it repeatedly before opening, then sipped the beverage slowly. By the time someone came in to check on her twenty minutes later, she had just finished her drink. Seeing only an empty carton on the tray, the aide's first reaction was one of concern.

"Was breakfast not to your liking, Ms. Benson? I can order you something else, if you'd prefer."

Olivia grit her teeth, once again annoyed beyond belief at not being addressed by her proper title. Even if they were to call her by her first name would not be as bad of an insult as being called "Ms." She had worked so damn hard to earn the titles of Officer, Detective, and now Sergeant, and she was proud to have them as a preface to her name.

"No, thank you. I'm fine. I never eat breakfast. Usually I only have juice and coffee, but I'm just not feeling much in the mood for coffee today."

Olivia had kept eye contact as she told the lie, trying to sound as sincere as possible. She had no way of knowing that this man had already been in report, and been given the news that she had repeatedly been refusing to eat since her admission. However, this aide in particular was also quite skilled in reading body language, and he had picked up on the unspoken cues. Instead of making a fuss, he merely removed the tray with the uneaten food and left the room. This patient's behavior was concerning, but to call her attention to it now would only make her more agitated. That wasn't his place – it was the responsibility of the nurse and doctor overseeing her care.

Left alone again, Olivia sighed. She wished she had thought to ask if there was a newspaper that she could borrow to read. She was going to go stir crazy sitting here. With any luck, she would have her tablet shortly, and have something to serve as a distraction until nightfall. For the time being, she decided that she would rest, as she needed to be alert as possible come later. Leaning back against the pillow, she tried to get comfortable, then closed her eyes.

* * *

A soft knock alerted Olivia to the arrival of someone new. Her brief nap had been anything but restful, and she found herself feeling groggy and disoriented as she tried to acclimate to her surroundings. Looking toward the hall, she noticed Owen standing in the doorway, a bag slung over his shoulder. He was regarding her with an expression that had an air of regret. It was only when she gestured with her hand that it was okay for him to enter that he stepped forward into the room, an apology on his lips.

"I'm sorry, Olivia. I didn't mean to disturb you. Had I known you were sleeping, I would have just left your bag with one of the nurses."

"It's fine. I wanted my things anyway. I swear, hospital gowns have to be one of the worst possible fashion designs ever created."

Despite the gravity of the situation, Owen couldn't hide his smile at Olivia's comment. She had a point, after all. While the garments were convenient for staff access to provide patient treatment, that was where their practicality ended. In terms of comfort and user wearability, however, they were downright useless.

As Olivia pressed a button on the handrail of the bed, situating herself in a more upright position, Owen took a seat in a nearby chair and placed the bag he had brought with him at the base of the bed by her feet. Not sure exactly where to begin the conversation, especially considering he was still practically a stranger, Owen tried to figure out what to say. Almost immediately, he admonished himself for his hesitation. Olivia didn't need to pick up on any negative body language from him right now, she had enough on her plate. Instead, he focused on maintaining a positive energy. He also reminded himself that he wasn't going to mention Elliot – not unless she brought him up first. From what he'd heard the night before, that was likely a sensitive subject.

Instead, Owen's attention was drawn to the tray table beside Olivia's bed. A bittersweet smile played at his lips when he saw the yet to be completed menu still sitting on the top of the laminate surface. In the short time he had known this woman, he was already well aware that food was a struggle for her, plus he had been present the night before when Don had been given the news that she had been refusing to eat since her admission.

"I noticed you haven't filled out your food selections for the rest of today and tomorrow yet, Olivia. I know better than anyone how difficult that choice can be in an unfamiliar hospital. Fortunately for you, I know this place better than anyone. What do you say I look over this with you, and make some suggestions?"

Though Olivia was touched by the offer, she couldn't bring herself to accept. It didn't even have anything to do with the fact that she wasn't planning on staying – it was more that she didn't intend to eat anything they served her in this place. The meals could all have been prepared by a four star chef, and she still wouldn't have touched them. Where her lack of appetite had once been caused as a result of her prior traumas, now it was a matter of principle. She would not do something simply because these people wanted her to.

"No, thank you. I haven't been that hungry anyway. I don't see that changing anytime soon."

Concerned, and afraid of overstepping, but unable to stay silent, Owen admonished her gently.

"Olivia, you need to take care of yourself."

Olivia was unable to keep the bitterness from her tone as she responded, although her anger wasn't directed at the man currently sitting just a few feet away.

"No, I don't. I mean, that's why I'm here, isn't it? So I _don't_ have to take care of myself? Elliot obviously considered me incapable, that's why he turned on me and had me admitted. Why should I cooperate just to make his life easier?"

Owen tried to hide his shock. Not that he was surprised by Olivia's feelings of anger and betrayal, those were to be expected. But he was taken aback by her misunderstanding. Apparently she was under the assumption that it had been Elliot who had had her admitted against her will. He wasn't going to be the one to inform her otherwise, though, as it wasn't his place. Plus doing so would only direct her rage toward Don instead.

As if that weren't enough weight for him to carry on his shoulders, Olivia was also giving off a vibe that made him very nervous. The only reason he recognized it so well was because it mirrored some of his own emotions from his own hospital stays after he had been injured overseas. Had he had full use of all his limbs and faculties, he would have left the hospital in a heartbeat. That was why Owen was convinced Olivia was planning something similar. Suddenly, he had a very sick feeling in the pit of he stomach as to why she had been so adamant about having her things. She was going to try and run.

Not wanting to add to the list of people that she saw as having betrayed her, but knowing he couldn't let her do something that could potentially be a detriment to her treatment, Owen knew what he would have to do. Before leaving the hospital, he was going to have to speak to Olivia's nurse, and inform them of his suspicions. He was doubtful if he should share them with Elliot and Don as well, but knew that it would only hurt the men more if they were to learn from complete strangers that their friend had attempted an escape.

Sensing that Olivia was torn between wanting to be left alone but at the same time desperate for company, Owen offered to stay for a little while longer. The brunette was hesitant to accept, but the look of relief was obvious in her eyes. So he affirmed that he would extend his visit, and made himself more comfortable in his chair.

* * *

Thirty minutes after Owen had left, and not having any inkling as to what his intentions had been prior to his departure, Olivia sat in her hospital bed, thumbing through her tablet. To the casual observer, it looked like she was simply reading, and that was just the way she wanted it. In reality, she was doing research – gathering as much information that she could find in a short amount of time. Come tonight, she would need to have a wealth of knowledge at her fingertips, and she would need to remember as much as possible.

If she were in the city right now, disappearing wouldn't be a problem. While she was more familiar with some over others, she knew each Borough as well as the neighborhoods that comprised them. Hell, she was even cognizant of some of Pennsylvania and even nearby Jersey cities, too. But here? She was completely out of her element. All of the resources that she would be needing to disappear and lay low for awhile – hotel, car rental, even a bank where she could cash a check – were completely foreign locations to her.

She had very nearly narrowed down a possible hotel in which to seek her refuge when a knock at the door caused her to close out the browser window in a hurry. Cursing the interruption, Olivia turned her attention to the hall, and bit back another expletive when she saw who was about to enter her room. It was the psychiatrist she remembered from the emergency room the day before – what was his name again? _Barnes_ , her frazzled mind supplied momentarily. Dr. Kevin Barnes.

"Good morning, Sergeant."

Again, Olivia held her tongue. Nothing about having to stay in the hospital against her will made any part of the day 'good'. She really wasn't in the mood to have her head shrunk right now, nor did she want another lecture on why eating was important. Did none of these people realize how hard she tried? It hadn't started out as a deliberate refusal – not until now, at least. The only reason she hadn't sent this doctor packing immediately was because he had been the only one since her arrival to address her by her proper title. There was an odd comfort in that, like the part of her identity that had been stolen from her had been returned, even if it was only briefly.

Dr. Barnes took no offense at his patient's lack of reply. Though she was regarding him cautiously, there was no visible agitation in her body language, so he took that as a sign that his presence was not completely unwelcome.

"I see that you were able to get some of your things. I'm glad. If you'd like, I can send in one of the aides when I leave, and have them assist you with your IV line so you are able to change into something more comfortable."

"Actually, I'd prefer it if you would just remove the IV altogether."

Dr. Barnes shook his head in the negative, though his voice was tinged with regret.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Sergeant. I've been made aware of your refusal to eat, and know that you are barely drinking. Right now that IV is the sole source of your hydration."

Throwing her head back against the pillow in frustration, Olivia stifled a groan. She didn't even bother asking her next question, then, which was if she would be allowed to take a shower. She hadn't gone longer than a day without a shower since Lewis had happened. But so long as this fucking IV was still in her vein, that wasn't going to be happening. She tried her best to remain calm though, and remind herself that she just had to get through until tonight when she'd be at a hotel. Then she could spend some time in the hottest water possible, and wash this nightmare away.

"Sergeant Benson? Sergeant Benson!"

Olivia returned to the present, ashamed that she had been caught daydreaming. There was nothing worse than losing your focus with a psychiatrist in the room. Without a doubt, Dr. Barnes would want to analyze the source of her mental lapse. She certainly wasn't about to reveal the truth behind her wayward thoughts.

"It looks like I lost you for a minute there. Want to tell me what is on your mind?"

"Not particularly."

It was a weak deflection, and she knew it. But it was all she had in her arsenal at the moment. The rest of her defenses had to remain on alert for the other questions she knew were coming – the more in depth ones designed to get her to reveal her deepest, darkest secrets.

"Fair enough. How about you tell me why you aren't eating, then? If it's a matter of the food not being to your liking, I can try to arrange something more preferable."

"You can't make me eat, and you can't make me talk to you about it."

As though knowing he was battling a lost cause for the time being, Dr. Barnes didn't want to push his patient any more. Doing so would only increase her agitation. There was something he needed to inform her of, so she wouldn't be caught unaware. He had mentioned it the day before, but doubted that she had remembered.

"I'm going to leave you alone in a few minutes, Sergeant, but someone else will be coming to see you later this afternoon. She is one of our registered dietitians, and I hope you will listen to what she has to say. You may not want to eat, but you should at least consider drinking some of the supplemental smoothies we have to offer. Your body needs the nutrients.

Olivia said nothing in response, not wanting to commit herself to anything. She reluctantly answered the last remaining questions the doctor asked in regard to how her medication had been dispensed the night prior. As much as it pained her to say, she did have to admit that taking the oral suspension of the citalopram had been easier than swallowing the tablets.

Alone once more, Olivia scrubbed her palms over her face. Although Owen's visit earlier had granted a bit of a reprieve, this was the longest day she had had to endure in some time. While she had always thought the endless monotony in the absence of work was bad before, it was nothing compared to this.

A sound from the door caught her attention, and she stifled another groan. She had completely missed the sound of the food carts, and hadn't been ready for the arrival of her lunch tray. To make matters worse, this was no orderly who was making the delivery. No, Olivia had no doubt that the person bearing her afternoon meal was the aforementioned dietitian, come to encourage her into eating. This day just kept getting better.

* * *

"Good afternoon, Sergeant Benson. I brought you your lunch, and I thought if you didn't mind, we could talk for a few minutes?"

The only reason Olivia consented to allowing this petite blonde into her room was because she had actually addressed her by her proper title. She was in no mood to receive a lecture on her dietary habits, but would tolerate it for the time being. Maybe it would even serve to kill some time, which was already crawling so slowly that it felt as though the day would never end.

"You can come in, but I'm not hungry."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Maybe we can work together and find a solution that will help stimulate your appetite."

After introducing herself as Rene Wilson, one of the hospitals many registered dietitians on staff, the woman set down the lunch in her hands and stepped closer to the bed. Olivia noticed that this woman did not help herself to a seat, and she did not make any attempt to start uncovering the plate on the tray in order to foist its contents on an unwilling patient. While she was still wary about the presence in her room, these were all points in the newcomer's favor.

"Is it all right if I sit with you for awhile?"

Before she fully realized what she was doing, Olivia found herself consenting to the request. Issuing an instruction to her brain to remain calm, she also reminded herself that this in no way meant she was agreeing to cooperate with treatment. Just because she was going to listen to what this person had to say didn't mean she had to eat what was on the tray. In all reality, she didn't think she was physically capable of keeping anything solid down at the moment, anyway.

As Rene sat down, she removed an electronic tablet from the tote bag she carried with her, something that Olivia had missed during her initial observation. Thumbing through the device, she pulled up her patient's hospital file, as well as notes and remarks entered by nurses since her admission the day before. Also included were comments made by Elliot on what he had witnessed Olivia's eating habits to be like during the past week he'd spent in her presence. Though she'd studied all of this information already, Rene wanted to get the Sergeant's input in regard to her own condition.

"So, Sergeant Benson – or would you prefer to be called Olivia?"

This was the first time since her arrival here that anyone had asked for her preference on anything that was not food related. Olivia was so profoundly affected by the gesture, that she found herself agreeing to be addressed on a first name basis. In turn, Rene also insisted that she be referred to by her given name as well. She wanted to make Olivia as comfortable as possible, and dispensing of formalities was a good first step in that direction.

"Okay, Olivia. Why don't you tell me in your own words why you believe you are having such a problem with food? Or, if you don't want to say why, tell me instead what it is about eating that is a struggle for you?"

Despite all efforts to remain on constant guard, Olivia found herself visibly relaxing in this woman's presence. Unlike with her previous interactions with other members of staff, she didn't feel a pressure to open up and discuss her prior traumas – something she suspected they already knew about anyway. While she still had no doubt that anything she said here would eventually make its way back to Dr. Barnes' ears, maybe it would be easier to say aloud now. She also didn't plan on referencing herself personally, but instead on speaking in a more abstract manner.

"For the most part, there just isn't a feeling of hunger. The sight and smell of food are equally unappealing. I just wish everyone would stop insisting that I eat."

Olivia bit her lip. She hadn't meant to include an 'I' statement there, it had just slipped out. Her frustration was getting the better of her. She'd have to be more careful.

"I can understand that. However, you must also know that your body needs nutrition in order to thrive."

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, the woman on the hospital bed formed a response. She could not, however, keep the obvious bitterness out of her voice.

"Of course I know that. I'm not a child – nor am I an idiot. Don't you think I've _tried_ to take care of myself?"

"I'm sure you have. But there comes a time when you need to consider other options."

Though Rene was being anything but condescending, Olivia was getting very close to kicking the woman out of her room. Her patience was already hanging on by a thin thread as was, and this certainly wasn't helping.

"Would you be willing to try something, Olivia? How about a prepared smoothie instead of a more traditional meal? That way, you will still get a decent amount of vitamins and nutrients, but you don't actually have to eat anything. I'm told you are somewhat comfortable with drinking liquids."

"You're not talking about one of those chalky supplemental shakes they sell in stores and recommend to senior citizens, are you?"

Despite the gravity of the situation, Rene couldn't hide her smile.

"No, of course not. I mean a real, honest-to-goodness smoothie – made with real ingredients."

To her surprise, Olivia heard herself agreeing to try what had been suggested. Though if she were being honest, the consent stemmed more from curiosity than a willingness to cooperate. If this theory were to actually work, and she could actually drink a smoothie without a struggle, maybe it would be a solution for the days to come.

* * *

Thirty minutes later, Olivia was still counting down the hours until she could make her exit. She was however, feeling marginally better than before. Though it hadn't been perfect, her assigned aide had disconnected the IV temporarily so she could get changed out of the gown and into comfortable clothing. She'd also taken the opportunity to freshen up as best she could without having access to a shower. Now, dressed in a pair of loose fitting knit lounge pants and an oversized tee shirt, she no longer felt as exposed as she did previously. The only thing that was missing was the gray hoodie she usually wore, but long sleeves were not conducive with the IV in her vein. Fortunately, the temperature in the room was mild, so she didn't think that she would be catching a chill anytime soon.

Just as she finished getting settled, Rene reappeared. As promised, she brought with her the smoothie that Olivia had reluctantly acquiesced to try. The Styrofoam cup was larger than she had been expecting, meaning its contents held more than she had anticipated, too. Instead of a mere eight or twelve ounces, it was at least three times that amount. As though sensing her panic, Rene was quick to offer reassurance.

"Relax, Olivia. I don't want you to feel pressured to drink all of this. In fact, if you'd like, I can bring you another cup so you can split it up into smaller, more manageable portions. The important thing is that you take your time and at least try to get some of this down."

For several agonizing seconds, Olivia weighed the possibilities in her mind. Truth of the matter was, the thought of dividing that smoothie up into two or three smaller ones and trying to tackle them separately was more overwhelming that taking on the larger one by itself. She still couldn't promise how much of it she'd be able to get down, though.

"Just leave it be. I'll only need a straw."

Passing both items to the woman in the bed, Rene quickly retreated, sensing that she wanted to be left alone. Now that she actually had the smoothie in her possession, doubt was creeping back into Olivia's psyche. She wasn't sure she could do this. However, unlike when her meals had been delivered previously, there were no overwhelming odors that turned her stomach. If she concentrated hard enough, she could smell the scents of pineapple and mango, along with just a hint of citrus.

Starting with a tentative sip, Olivia let the flavors play over her taste buds. Besides the most apparent sensation of cold – the majority of fruit used in this concoction had been frozen – the overall flavor was quite pleasant. There were no gritty or chalky attributes, and nothing that hinted that they were trying to medicate her against her will. If something else had been added to the shake without her knowledge, it hadn't caused an obvious change to the formula.

Though she had tried her best to ingest as much as possible, Olivia found that she had reached her limit after drinking only one third of the contents of the cup. It wasn't even just a matter of being full, the sheer act of consuming it had been quite exhausting, much like when Elliot had tried to get her to eat earlier this week. She wouldn't necessarily say it was physically tiring – although that was definitely a factor – more that it was taxing on an emotional and mental level. It pained her to realize that eating was a task she once used to be able to complete while juggling several other things, and now it was such a struggle to just drink a glass of water.

Setting the remainder of her smoothie on the bedside tray table, Olivia picked up her tablet once more. A nagging part of her brain was telling her she should reach out to Elliot – or at the very least, Don or Fin – but she couldn't bring herself to comply. She was still clinging to the idea that all of three of the men had betrayed her by not coming to her defense and leaving her in this place. Even so, she was still able to recognize that Elliot may be hurting as a result as well, and hoped he wasn't suffering any negative effects on his sobriety. Just because she wasn't ready to talk to him didn't mean she wished the worst on him. She had even given it some thought, and despite wanting her solitude, promised herself she would find a way to get in contact with him – albeit by more conventional means – once she was someplace that would give her space to think. While she wouldn't be able to call or text or do anything that would be traceable, she could at least send a postcard or letter to let him know that she was safe. They had both dealt with too many missing persons cases during their time together as partners for her to subject him to the horror of the unknown.

Olivia let her eyes fall on the clock on the wall opposite her bed. It was now just after three in the afternoon, time for yet another shift change. She stifled a mirthless laugh as she realized she had been measuring time by the changing of the guard as it were – the seemingly endless monotony of varying faces that paraded in and out of her room. The reality was, she had only been here for a little over twenty four hours now. If this was how she felt after barely a day as an unwilling patient, she didn't want to know what her mental state would be like if she were to stay the full week that Dr. Barnes had mentioned was the intentioned duration of her hospital stay. The constant supervision coupled with confinement to this bed were reminiscent of her captivity during her time with Lewis. Granted, no one was forcing alcohol down her throat or threatening her with assault, but she felt trapped just the same.

* * *

Elliot pressed the 'end call' button on his phone screen, severing the connection he'd just had with Owen Winter. Turning to the other two men who were currently in his motel room, he tried to find a way to share the news he'd been given. A myriad of emotions were coursing through him at breakneck speeds, all fighting for domination. Ultimately though, it was guilt that won out. The weight of self blame was heavy on his shoulders, and he would bear that burden willingly, knowing that he deserved all that and more.

"Elliot? Is everything all right?"

Don asked the question, his voice laced with concern. Truth be told, the worry was more for the man who stood in front of him at the moment than the woman they all cared for who was currently in the hospital. He knew that if anything were seriously wrong with Olivia, her doctor would have called to inform him. He suspected this stemmed more from Owen's recent visit than anything else.

"Owen thinks Liv is going to try and do a runner. He says he recognized the signs."

As soon as the words left Elliot's lips, both Don and Fin were on their feet. Raising his palms to try and reassure them, as he'd never meant to instill the same panic in them that he felt in his own heart, Elliot rushed on to explain.

"Don't worry, he already told her nurse, they are aware of the situation. There is no way she is going to be able to leave."

Almost immediately, Don had his own phone out of his pocket, and he was dialing the hospital. It was nearing the same time as the day before when he'd called in for a report, so it wasn't anything out of the ordinary, but this new information had definitely accelerated his need to speak to someone in charge of Olivia's care. Ten minutes later, he was murmuring his thanks into the speaker, and ending the call.

Considering that his already limited supply of patience had been exhausted long ago, Elliot could barely wait for his former superior to impart the knowledge he'd been given. Rocking back on his heels, he raised his eyebrows expectantly, punctuating the expression with a terse ' _Well?_ ' that had been spoken through gritted teeth. Don exhaled, not wanting to confirm what they had already been told, but knowing he couldn't keep the information a secret, either.

"That was Olivia's nurse for the current shift. So far, nothing has changed since her admission. She is still refusing to eat or even cooperate with staff. The only thing she did ask for earlier this morning was to have the IV removed, which Dr. Barnes told her wouldn't be happening for awhile."

Don paused in his narrative to allow Elliot and Fin some time to absorb the news that he'd related thus far. Then, after taking a deep breath, he continued.

"After Owen visited, he spoke to the nurses, who agreed with his assessment. Apparently they were already preparing to list her as a flight risk once they'd learned someone was bringing her things in to the hospital. Olivia is unaware of this development, but while she was in the bathroom earlier today, a bed alarm was discretely placed under her mattress pad."

Each subsequent bit of news was like another blow to Elliot's gut. The more he heard, the more convinced he became that he was going to lose his best friend, right when he had finally gotten her back in his life. While he had no doubt in his mind of her ferocity and determination to survive at any cost, it seemed that she was so overwhelmed by her grief in the aftermath of what had happened to her that she was losing herself to the enormity of it all. It wasn't a conscious decision, but bit by bit, she was slowly fading away.

"Was there anything else?"

Elliot didn't even recognize his own voice in that moment. He sounded broken, defeated – and he hated himself for it. He needed to stay strong, both for his own sake and for Olivia's. That was what they did, they held each other up when times got tough. He may still have a three year absence to atone for, but that didn't mean that he had ever stopped thinking about her.

"Yes, actually. The dietitian was able to convince Olivia to drink a smoothie for lunch today. While she only had one-third of it, it's a start. They are hoping they can talk her into trying another one come dinnertime."

Fin may have been heartened by the news, but Elliot was not. If anything, it was worse than hearing that Olivia hadn't eaten at all. He knew he should be happy, take in the small victories, but all he could think about was the bigger picture. In the span of the entire week, Olivia's caloric intake likely matched what the average person would take in during one day. Plus, he greatly suspected she had only consented to drink the smoothie in the first place as a form of deception, especially now that he knew of her intended escape plans. Once those didn't come to fruition later, she would likely be back to her original method of refusing to cooperate at all costs.

As though he had intuited the younger man's spiraling thoughts, Don rested a palm on Elliot's shoulder. The afternoon was giving way to early evening, and soon it would be time for the three of them to seek out their own dinner. As much as he wanted to stay longer and help Olivia more, Fin needed to get back to the city, and would be leaving the following day. He did plan on stopping by the hospital first though, in the hopes that she would agree to see him.

"I know you were wanting to go to another meeting today, Elliot. Did you want me to come with you again, or would you rather go alone?"

Elliot was silent as he weighed the options. As much as the desire to drink was in the forefront of his mind, his devotion to Olivia was winning out. He knew he could go out on his own and not be tempted by alcohol. Plus, there was something else he wanted to do, that he felt he couldn't ask anyone to accompany him.

"I think I'll go alone. I'll bring back something for us to eat, though. My treat."

With that said, Elliot gathered up his jacket and his keys, and left the motel room. Fin and Don were left standing behind in his absence, a bit bewildered, but not overly concerned. Instead, they made themselves comfortable and waited for their friend's return.

* * *

In Elliot's opinion, the meeting had been a good one. Whether it was a matter of getting more comfortable with this group of people, or just the fact that he was feeling more open today, the weight on his shoulders felt considerably lighter once the hour had lapsed. Since this was his third time attending a meeting here in Cape May, the faces were definitely becoming more familiar, even if he could not yet match them to their given name.

Once he was back to his SUV, he used his phone to locate a nearby restaurant that offered take out. To enhance the convenience, they also offered online ordering, so he wouldn't have to deal with any human interaction until it would be time to pick up the food. Elliot was grateful for this small reprieve from society, as he was still lost in his own thoughts, and needed more time for reflection. With at least thirty minutes to wait until their dinner would be ready, he headed in the direction of the restaurant, intent on spending that half hour at the Catholic church he'd noticed on the map that was adjacent to the restaurant.

The last time Elliot had set foot in a church had been before Jenna. After that, his guilt and self loathing had always been too immense to allow him to trespass beyond those sacred doors. Now, though, he was here for a need far greater than his own. At a breaking point, and unsure of where else to search for help, he was returning to the very roots of the faith that had once grounded him when everything in his life was breaking apart. Now, it was Olivia for whom he would be on his knees tonight, beseeching a benevolent God to give her the strength she needed to make it over yet another hurdle that she had been dealt with. The irony of the situation hadn't escaped him – nor did the hypocrisy of his doubts. There was still a part of him that wanted to shout at the heavens and cast blame on any responsible party for the tragedies that had befallen his beloved friend, but at the same time, he was willing to beg for her healing. So long as Olivia was not punished further for what he viewed to be his own transgressions and faults, he would do whatever it took to restore her to her former self.

Stepping into the Narthex, Elliot remembered the rituals he had been brought up with, and repeated them as though from muscle memory. Dipping his fingers into the font of Holy Water positioned by the entrance, he blessed himself with the sign of the cross. Though his intention was to eventually sit and pray, there was something else he wanted to take care of first.

Crossing to a spot in the back of the church, he found what he was looking for. Row upon row of candles sat in wait for those offering prayer intentions to light them. Putting his donation in the box, Elliot lit three candles – all with Olivia's healing in mind. The first was for her physical well being, the second to repair her troubled mind, and last but not least, a third to restore her spirit.

Having accomplished what he'd originally come here to do, Elliot stepped away from the candles, feeling a small sense of peace. But his restless heart wasn't yet satisfied. Walking down the aisle, he genuflected toward the altar and took a seat in one of the pews in the middle of the church.

Sinking to his knees, Elliot bowed his head, bringing it to rest on his clasped hands. His shoulders began to shake as an onslaught of emotion swept over him. There was no cause to fight the tears that threatened to spill over, so he let them fall freely, welcoming the release of grief, bitterness, and self loathing that he had been holding onto for so very long. As he continued to weep unashamedly, the saline lingering on his cheeks, a litany of pleas fell from his lips. Out of practice with more traditional prayer, his invocation was simple and heartfelt, and didn't follow any standard format.

"God, I know it may seem like I've turned my back on you in recent years. It's true, my faith has been shaken. I'm here now, not for me, but for someone who I deeply care for."

He exhaled shakily, trying to regain his composure, and failing miserably.

"She's in so much pain, and it's killing me inside that I can't do anything to help her. I know part of that is my own fault – I have to earn her trust back first. Even then, there is no magic cure."

Feeling like he was betraying Olivia yet again for speaking about her condition so openly – even if he was talking to an omniscient being – Elliot struggled once more.

"If you could just help her stay strong, keep her from giving up on herself, I promise I won't fail her again."

He stayed that way, hunched over in prayer for another ten minutes, until he was completely spent. When he could think of nothing else to ask for, and there were no more tears left to cry, Elliot stood to leave. He paused in the restroom by the exit to splash some cold water on his face in the hopes that it would conceal his reddened eyes. Then he left the church, feeling a fraction more calm than he had previously.

Before heading back to his SUV, Elliot walked the short distance to the restaurant to pick up their dinner order. It was hot and ready, so he was on his way again in no time. Navigating through the city streets that were gradually becoming more familiar, he made his way back to the motel. As the smells from the Chinese food wafted across from the passenger seat while he drove, Elliot couldn't help but wonder how Olivia was faring with her own evening meal. He hoped she would at least attempt a smoothie again, and perhaps even successfully manage more than she had at lunch. The time that he'd had to himself had allowed him to be able to view the small step she'd taken in a more positive light, and he only hoped it would last when her inevitable escape attempt later would prove unsuccessful.

Once he'd pulled into the motel lot, it was only minutes later that Elliot was back in his room again. There had been no other news on Olivia in his absence, and he wasn't sure whether to be worried or relieved. Pushing that thought aside, he set the bag of food on the table in the room, and the three men took their seats to enjoy a meal together. They ate in relative silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

Later that night, as Fin was going back to his own room, he promised Elliot that he would call once he saw Olivia the following morning. The hope was that she would be amenable to visitors, and agree to see not only Fin when he arrived, but Elliot and Don later on.

The men also made a plan to keep in touch with one another until Olivia's release from the hospital and beyond, so Fin could stay in the loop.

Settling in to share a room with his former Captain and current sponsor for the second night in a row, Elliot was once again grateful for the company. He knew Don's insistence that he stay didn't stem from lack of trust, but rather a show of support. While having someone else with him didn't completely eliminate the cravings, it lessened them enough to a degree that he could at least attempt to get something resembling a decent night of sleep.

* * *

Olivia was in her hospital bed, more restless than ever. It didn't help her anxiety any to know that a second smoothie was on its way to her room. Rene had paid her another visit mid afternoon, wanting her to drink another one in between lunch and dinner, but she had refused. She had a feeling that someone would also attempt to try and push one on her before they passed out her bedtime meds, too. It was almost as though now they'd found a small doorway into getting nutrients into her body, they were going to overload her system any chance they got. It was just accepted that she would consent, and they hadn't even asked her if she was interested in anything for dinner. The only choice she had been given was what flavor she preferred.

Though she wasn't actively watching, she had turned the television on about an hour ago. It had been an act of desperation, as she had been unable to bear the noise of her own thoughts any longer. They simply wouldn't leave her alone, and were parading incessantly through her head. The quiet murmur in the background coming from the bedside speaker was efficient in silencing the rogue voices in her head.

Speaking of her head, Olivia noted with a wince and a groan that her headache was back – if it had ever even left. She'd not once complained about her symptoms of pain and nausea, too afraid of having more medications to take, even if these ones in particular would offer relief. She barely trusted people she knew right now, let alone complete strangers.

Try as she might, though, Olivia couldn't remember what had caused her to end up with the stitches she had first spotted on her brow earlier that morning. One thing she knew for certain though – it had to have been through accidental means. Elliot would never cause her physical harm, and her instincts were still strong enough to tell her that Owen would not have hurt her, either. She only hoped that she had passed out in the privacy of the cottage and not somewhere out in the streets during her run where she would have brought even greater humiliation upon herself.

Like a flash of light, a memory came to her then, playing its images like a movie behind her closed lids. She saw herself running back toward the cottage and falling, and felt as her palms and knees burned anew with the recollection of it all. In her mind's eye, Olivia witnessed as she stumbled back to the cottage, breathing a sigh of relief when she was safely inside. Good. She hadn't collapsed on the sidewalk like she'd originally suspected.

A knock at the door pulled her back to the present, and Olivia glanced toward the hall, suppressing a groan. While it wasn't Rene, the person standing at the entrance to her room carried the all-too-familiar Styrofoam cup that she recognized from earlier, and a smile that seemed just a bit too eager for someone who was delivering what was supposed to be a simple smoothie. Gritting her teeth, Olivia waved the woman in, bracing herself for the bubbly personality she no doubt possessed.

"Good evening Ms. Benson! I work with Rene, and let me tell you how excited we all are that you've decided to try another smoothie for your dinner tonight.! What an excellent choice you've made, too – Piña Colada – always one of my personal favorites!"

As Olivia was passed the smoothie, it took every ounce of willpower within her to not turn that cup upside down and dump its contents on the head of the woman standing beside her bed. Any minute desire she may have previously had to even try the concoction had flown out the window. She was back to the point of refusal to cooperate due to sheer protest. Not only had she been referred to by "Ms." again, but the manner in which she had been spoken to had been so condescending. She was not a toddler who needed to be prompted to eat their vegetables, in hopes of getting a reward of a cookie for dessert.

Nevertheless, Olivia tamped down he urge to protest and complain, accepting both the cup and the straw that accompanied it. She hoped that the sooner she did so, the sooner she would be left on her own again. Fortunately, fate was in her favor for the time being. The unwelcome guest retreated without even waiting to see if Olivia would sample the beverage which she had imparted upon the unwilling patient.

Mindlessly, Olivia inserted the straw into the lid and took a half hearted sip. She was drinking some of this more to indulge her curiosity than anything else. While the name of the flavor had piqued her interest, she knew there was no way it would ever compare to a true piña colada. For one thing, there was no rum in it – something she would sorely miss. But even she could admit that alcohol was the last thing she needed at the moment, and even so, she certainly wouldn't find any in a hospital.

Olivia did have to admit that the combination of pineapple and coconut, complete with the addition of frozen banana for thickness and coconut milk to blend everything together was very pleasing to the palate. There was still no way that she'd be able to consume the entire contents of the container though, but she might at least manage the same amount as she had earlier in the day. As she sipped her drink, her eyes flicked back to the television screen, looking for a way to help the time pass faster.

* * *

Later that night, once the late shift of nurses and aides had all been introduced, and the bedtime meds had been doled out, Olivia lay wide eyed and alert in her room. Her heart was pounding so fiercely in her chest that she swore she could hear it thrumming in her ears.

Finally, the moment she thought would never arrive finally happened – the harsh lighting in the hallway dimmed, giving way to a more muted glow suitable for the nighttime. This was when she'd have to weigh her options carefully as to when to make her move. Olivia wished that she'd been able to set foot outside her room at some point, because she had no clue as to the orientation of the unit she was on. If by some dumb luck her room was near the nurse's station, she wouldn't stand a chance in hell at making it past that pivotal spot before she was caught – even if she ran like the wind.

Hoping that wasn't the case, she decided to bide her time and wait another hour or so until things were more settled. Even though it was already after eleven, there was still a chance that one or more of her fellow patients on this floor were night owls, up late in their rooms watching television. Ideally, she would wait until two or three in the morning to make her exit, but she had no way of knowing what late night transportation was like here, and she would need to find a way to a motel of some sort. Once again, Olivia lamented the fact that she was far away from the conveniences of the city she called home, where a cab could be hailed at any hour of the day.

The sound of shoes squeaking on the linoleum grew louder as they approached her room, and for several agonizing moments Olivia forgot to breathe. She didn't know whether she should pretend to be watching television, or feign sleep. In the end, there wasn't time to do either, as her nurse was through the doorway mere seconds later.

"I'm sorry to disturb you Ms. Benson, but I noticed in your chart that you have a sedative prescribed to you should you wish to take it. Is that something you would be interested in tonight?"

After struggling to find her voice, Olivia stammered out a response.

"N – no. I don't want to take anything else."

"Are you sure? There's no point in struggling to sleep if you have something that will help you."

Exasperated now, Olivia became more insistent. Hadn't these nurses ever learned to take 'no' for an answer?

"I said I didn't want to take anything!"

Quite used to patients taking their frustrations out on her, the nurse didn't even bat an eyelash when Olivia raised her voice. She had not, however, finished what she came to say. She had a suspicion though that her next suggestion would be even less welcomed than her first one.

"I also saw in your chart that you've had some success with smoothies at lunch and dinner. Can I order you one for a bedtime snack? You haven't gotten very many calories today."

Gritting her teeth, Olivia again answered in the negative. She tried to remind herself that she only needed to accommodate these people a short while longer. After a few more annoying questions, the nurse left the room, leaving her alone with her thoughts once more.

Because of the unwelcome and unexpected intrusion, Olivia decided she would delay her attempt by at least another half hour. She stared relentlessly at the clock, watching as the second hand made its rotations, ticking the minutes along one by one. Finally, at twelve thirty, the combination of restless anxiety in her mind along with the silence in the halls convinced her it was time to make her move.

Peeling back the tape that held the IV in place, Olivia removed it from her vein with one sharp and decisive tug. Then, she quickly placed a leftover napkin from her tray table over the site and held it there by wrapping a cotton elastic intended for a ponytail around her hand. The last thing she needed would be to give away her escape route or location by leaving behind a blood trail.

Pushing the tray table out of the way, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and steadied her feet on the floor. It would take her several seconds to gain her bearings once she was standing, then a few minutes more to retrieve her bag from the closet and pack the remainder of her things. Even so, Olivia was confident she would be outside the hospital walls in twenty minutes or less.

As she rose to a standing position, Olivia was compelled to cover her ears as a piercing alarm sounded throughout the room. What was going on? Once realization settled in, so did the nausea and dread she had been trying to keep at bay all day. Somehow, they had known. They had been aware of her plan all along, and had been ready for it. There wouldn't be time to grab her bag or coat – not even her shoes. She had to make a run for it, _now_.

The sound of several sets of approaching footsteps quickly let her know that idea was also not an option. Desperate now, and too ashamed to look anyone in the eye, Olivia sought out the only escape she had left – the bathroom. Grabbing her cell phone, she bolted for the small enclosure and barricaded herself inside. Once the door was locked, she braced her back against it and sank to the floor, exhausted already from the energy she'd expended thus far.

"Ms. Benson? Ms Benson! I need you to open the door!"

The voices of her nurse and her aide, plus other voices she couldn't identify all echoed to her through the wooden obstacle. Olivia ignored them all. Instead, she clutched the electronic lifeline she held in her palm, and fought against her own stubborn pride. As everything from the past two days closed in on her all at once, suddenly nothing else mattered but hearing the once voice she knew would bring her peace. Her anger and frustration with him could wait. Right now, she just needed Elliot.

Dialing the familiar sequence of numbers that she had never been able to make herself forget -even in the wake of his three year absence from her life – Olivia lifted the phone to her ear and held her breath. After only two rings, his throaty timbre was coming over the line, laced with concern.

"Olivia? What is it?"

Choking back a sob, she managed to ask for the one thing she wanted most, even if deep down she knew it was an impossible request to grant.

"Elliot, please come and get me. I want to go home."


	9. Compliant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again I'd like to thank purpleomaddy for previewing this for me. I would have tried to publish this sooner, but in preparing chapter 10, it was quite the emotional journey. (I like to try and stay one chapter ahead with this one). Thank you for your patience.

**Disclaimer: SVU and all of its characters were created by and are the property of Dick Wolf. I make no profit with this story, which is my own original work.**

* * *

Elliot tried to hurriedly clear the cobwebs from his brain and focus on the phone call that had woken him from a troubled slumber. He needed to be one hundred percent alert for this – it was Olivia on the phone, and if she was contacting him after midnight, the reason had to be an imperative one. Had she succeeded in her escape attempt after all? No. He dismissed that thought as quickly as it had come. If she had indeed been able to make her way out of the hospital, she would not be calling him to alert him of her presence. Instead, Elliot surmised that her endeavors had failed. In her frustration, she was seeking out comfort from any available source.

"Liv? What is it? Where are you?"

No sooner had the rapid-fire string of questions left his lips, Elliot was admonishing himself for his urgency. The last thing he needed to do was instill further panic in a woman who was likely already at her wit's end. She needed him to remain calm, and he would do anything she asked – within reason. Forcing himself to keep composed, he repeated the questions, this time with less exigency than before.

"Olivia? Are you all right? Can you tell me what is going on?"

Yet again, a tearful plea echoed over the line. The voice that filled his ears sounded nothing like the formidable partner who had walked by his side for over half of his career as a police officer, and instead resembled a woman who had reached her breaking point. It broke his heart, especially considering he held himself responsible. Even though he had not personally signed the papers admitting Olivia to the hospital, had he been her medical proxy, he would have. He would have done whatever was necessary to get her the help she so desperately needed.

Right now, none of that mattered. What she needed in this moment apparently, was him. Unfortunately, getting a coherent sentence out of his friend was all but impossible in her current state. Instead, Elliot opted for methods of distraction, keeping her on the line by telling her stories about his children. Though she'd likely heard them all before, there was comfort in the familiarity, and her overstimulated breathing began to abate into a more even cadence.

To his left, Elliot gradually became aware of Don making a phone call of his own. He wasn't sure exactly when the older man had awakened, but he was grateful that someone else was taking initiative so he could focus all of his energies on Olivia. Without a doubt, he knew Don was phoning the hospital, most likely to talk with Olivia's nurse.

"Olivia, can you tell me where you are?"

Now that she was calmer, Elliot tried again to get some information out of her. He still wasn't sure if she would answer him, but he knew he had to try. If he concentrated hard enough, it sounded as though there were other voices in the background, and perhaps even some knocking.

"In the bathroom."

Repeating the words out loud for Don's benefit, Elliot heard the other man confirm that on his own call. Knowing what he must do next, and hoping it wouldn't break the fragile bond of trust that had been reestablished so recently, Elliot questioned Olivia once more.

"Are you hurt at all?"

Elliot held his breath while he waited for an answer. First and foremost, he hoped Olivia would be honest with him. But after that, he prayed she would not see the question as yet another betrayal and sever their connection. This phone call was their lone method of maintaining contact, as it was apparent she was completely ignoring hospital staff, and they were yet unable to unlock the door in order to get to her.

"I was bleeding a little from where I removed the IV, but that has pretty much stopped. Other than that, I'm fine. I just want to get out of here."

Exhaling a sigh of relief, Elliot reaffirmed his understanding that he knew how unhappy she was in that given moment. However, he was unable to make the one promise that he knew she wanted most from him – that he would come to the hospital to bring her home. Instead, he waited until Don passed him a written message stating that the staff would be willing to overlook the visitor's rules for the time being and allow them to come and see their friend.

Don was the first to dress, then he went next door to alert Fin. The two men would be going to the hospital together. Once he was alone, Elliot switched his phone to speaker mode so he could change his clothes and throw a few items into a backpack. So long as the nurses were extending permission, and provided Olivia gave her consent as well, he didn't plan on leaving her side for the rest of the night. It didn't matter how uncomfortable of a chair he would have to sit in, he would keep vigil as long as she would let him.

* * *

Locked inside her temporary sanctuary, Olivia continued to ignore those on the other side of the door who were trying to get her attention. Instead, she clung to the phone in her hand, finding solace in the voice coming from the opposite end of the line. For now, she had temporarily forgotten about her frustrations with the man she was talking to. Despite what had happened yesterday, he was still someone she could trust.

"Elliot? Where are you now?"

"I'm on my way to the hospital, Liv. The nurses have agreed to overlook the rules for tonight and let us come and visit you."

Olivia covered her mouth with the palm of her hand to keep a sob from breaking free. He'd said 'visit'. He was coming, yes, but not to take her home. Somehow though, the knowledge didn't reignite her anger and frustration with him or the others. Instead, it only served to increase her fatigue and make her grow more weary. Though she couldn't fully admit it to herself just yet – perhaps there was still a bit of denial on her part – she was going to have to resign herself to a stay in the hospital. But unwilling to face reality for the time being, she opted to stay hidden in her refuge for just a little while longer. At least until Elliot arrived.

"Can you do something for me, Olivia?"

Unsure of just what his request would entail, Olivia was hesitant to reply. But then she realized that he would never ask her for more than she was able to give.

"Yes."

"You don't have to move from where you are, but can you at least answer the nurses and let them know that you are safe? I'm sure they are worried about you."

Though she would have preferred to keep invisible and remain locked within the bathroom ignorant to her surroundings, Olivia was lucid enough to recognize that was an impossible task. So, she acknowledged Elliot's entreaty for what it was – an affirmation of her safety. The next time a knock sounded on the wooden barrier separating her from those standing on the other side, and a voice reached her ears, pleading with her to reply, she gave them the response they desired. While she was still refusing to leave for the time being, she did assert that she had no intentions to cause herself harm.

Considering her duty complete, Olivia returned her attention to Elliot. Despite the conflict of emotions within her, he was still the one person who could ground her when everything else in her life was falling apart. No matter what reservations she may have had in regard to his reappearance, it didn't diminish their connection, or the way it had reignited almost instantly as though there hadn't been an absence at all. He was still her rock. It was why she'd trusted him with the most intimate details in regard to her recent history, even if she hadn't been able to relay the information personally.

"Elliot? Are you still there?"

"I'm here, Liv. We're not far away now. I'm sorry it's taking me longer to get to the hospital than it normally would."

Olivia shook her head dismissively, then belatedly realized that Elliot could not see her. In her mind, he didn't owe her any apologies – except for maybe admitting her to begin with. But as for his leaving three years ago, he had not only atoned for that transgression, but in her opinion, had paid more than necessary with his own personal losses. The choices he had made and their resulting consequences had been life altering, not only for him, but his family as well. Now that she knew the truth, she could never fault him for that.

"Don't apologize. Just get here."

Silence reigned over the phone call as neither Elliot nor Olivia spoke, but the resulting quiet was not an uncomfortable one. She knew he was still there, much in the same way she still sensed that the people waiting for her on the opposite side of the door hadn't left her alone, either. They had, however, stopped with the incessant knocking and she hoped that meant they had given up on their efforts to pick the lock as well. While she'd had no doubt they were trying to be quiet, the bathroom was not a soundproof chamber, and Olivia had been able to hear some of the conversation outside in the main room. Apparently a call had gone in to maintenance in an effort to get the master key to gain access to the bathroom, but so far no one had responded yet. She'd all but sighed in relief when they'd canceled the order after learning that Elliot was on his way and would no doubt convince her to emerge from her self imposed solitude. While Olivia knew she couldn't remain hidden forever, she did not want to exit without knowing there was at least one ally in her corner who would advocate for her. She strongly suspected that after what had happened, an attempt would be made to sedate her, and she did not want to take anything that would impair her faculties – no matter how mildly.

"Hang on just a little bit longer, Liv. I'm pulling into the hospital parking garage now. Don and Fin are right behind me."

Without consciously realizing it, Olivia began to grip the phone just a bit more tightly. He was here. Within minutes, his voice would be calling to her from the other side of the door, and not just from across the miles over a phone connection. After so many years living with his absence, she could once again dial his number, knowing without a doubt that he would answer her calls without hesitation. How foolish she had been to deny him – and herself – the comfort he had been wanting to offer since his return. She didn't know yet if she could open up completely and show him the enormity of the vulnerability she was feeling. After so many months living locked in a bubble of self preservation, coupled with what had happened only weeks ago, it wouldn't be easy to flip that switch again and suddenly become less guarded. As her temporary reprieve surrounded by the tile walls gradually came to an end, Olivia promised herself she would at least try.

* * *

Shortly after they had parked the two separate cars, the three men were making their way through the hospital corridors to Olivia's room. Thanks to the smart thinking of one of the aides on the unit who was among the many unsuccessfully attempting to coax the traumatized woman out of the bathroom, security had been alerted to their eventual arrival, and they had not been detained. Instead, the man in uniform sitting behind the desk had merely offered helpful directions to assist them on their journey.

Since Elliot had yet to sever his phone conversation with Olivia - even though they weren't actively talking at the moment – it was Don who took initiative. It was probably better that he speak out on Olivia's behalf, considering he was the one who had signed her admission forms and was her current medical proxy.

"I don't intend to tell anyone here how to do their job, but if you want him to get her out of there, it's best you not be in the room when she comes out. Once we get her settled, I'll call you back in to take care of her."

Save for the three who knew Olivia best, every eye in the room turned to one person, who Elliot deduced must be the shift supervisor. He held his breath as he watched the woman weigh the options, hoping the suggestion would not only be considered, but accepted. Ultimately, it was with a reluctant nod that Don's terms were agreed to, and the room was cleared.

Relying solely on their experience not only with Olivia, but with trauma survivors in general, the three friends acted quickly. While Fin eliminated all of the harsh lighting, save for a more muted lamp just above Olivia's bed, Don grabbed a spare blanket from a nearby chair. Elliot on the other hand, focused his attention on the woman on the other end of his phone call.

"Olivia? Can you hear me? I don't just mean on the phone...can you hear my voice? I'm here. We're all here. Myself, Don, and Fin. There is no one else in the room right now. It's okay to come out."

"They're all gone?"

Elliot could hear the mixture of anguish and doubt in Olivia's voice, and it nearly broke his heart. Burying his own feelings for the moment, he focused on the task at hand – getting her out of the bathroom. But he also knew he couldn't lie to her.

"They're all gone for now. Don got them to promise they wouldn't come back in unless you said it was okay."

"I need a few minutes first. I'm going to hang up, though."

Rather than deflecting to panic, Elliot easily understood what she was trying to say. Without a doubt, Olivia had spent the duration of her self imposed exile with her back barricaded against the door to prevent anyone from forcing their way inside. Even though she hadn't been in the bathroom for longer than an hour, she likely had to use the facilities before making her exit. He also suspected she wanted to take a moment or two to compose herself before meeting anyone face to face. Even though she had nothing to be ashamed about, Olivia was likely very embarrassed about the events that had unfolded tonight.

The telltale sounds of a flush followed by running water were all indicators of Olivia's eventual reappearance. Elliot hadn't truly seen her since the day she had kicked him out of the cottage. He couldn't very well count the events that had taken place in the emergency room only a little more than twenty four hours prior, as she had barely been coherent enough to account for her own self, let alone register his presence.

As quickly as the feelings rose up within his heart and mind, Elliot squashed them down just as swiftly. This was not about him, nor was it about any disagreements they may or may not have had. What mattered was that Olivia knew she was in a safe place, so that she would comply with treatment and ultimately consent to continuing care.

The next thing they all heard was the echo of a lock disengaging, and then the bathroom door swung inward, revealing a disheveled Olivia. The haunted look in her brown irises spoke to her wariness and unease, and the flush in her cheekbones revealed her shame. Choosing to ignore her outward appearance, the trio of companions opted instead to focus on the woman herself.

Don was the first to step forward, offering the blanket in a silent gesture. Olivia nodded, giving wordless permission for him to come closer and wrap the cotton sheath around her shivering form. He lay it gently over her shoulders, allowing her to take control. The last thing he wanted was to overwhelm her further, especially at a time when her system had been overstimulated far beyond what it could bear.

"Do you want to sit, Olivia?"

It was Elliot who asked the question, keeping his voice soft and free of judgment. His tone made it clear that the decision was entirely up to her. Perhaps that was why Olivia acquiesced so easily – once again, she felt like she was in charge of her own destiny, even if it was something as simple as deciding whether or not she wanted to sit down.

Shuffling around the bed, purposely avoiding the object she viewed as a traitorous foe in her failed escape attempt, Olivia perched delicately on the love seat along the wall in front of the window. She clutched her hands together in her lap, trying to conceal the fact that they were shaking. Her mind kept replaying the moments when she'd tried to flee, and everything that had gone so wrong, so fast. The recollection held her so deeply in it's grip that she was completely unaware of anything else around her. Olivia gave herself over to the memory, unaware as hot tears of defeat coursed down her cheeks. Even when she'd been sent away from the horror that her life had become, there was no escape. She felt as though she could run to the ends of the earth, and the nightmare would just follow wherever she went.

* * *

Olivia moved her hands from her lap to clutch at the blanket, pulling it more tightly around her body. She still couldn't bring herself to make eye contact with anyone in the room, nor had she been able to speak. Even though she knew it wasn't going to happen, she was hoping that someone – anyone would help her gather her belongings and lead her out of this place. What she did notice, however, was the sound of something being poured, and then Elliot was crouching in front of her, offering a cup of water.

"Here, Liv. Can you try just a few sips?"

Though she wanted to refuse based on principle alone, Olivia found she couldn't deny Elliot's simple request. She also realized that her recent onslaught of tears had left her feeling a bit thirsty. Wrapping her fingers around the cup, she lifted it from his hand and brought it to her mouth. After several tentative sips, she drank more earnestly until the vessel was empty. It hadn't been very full to begin with, but it _was_ the first liquid she had willingly consumed since the juice she'd had at breakfast. She didn't really count the smoothies that she had been convinced to drink as 'liquid', as she had mostly tried to block them from her memory altogether.

Though he knew it might be too soon to ask questions, Elliot needed answers. Sensing that Olivia was at least a fraction more at ease than she had been on the phone, he first asked for permission to sit with her. Once he had her consent, he pulled over a chair and positioned himself in front of her, so that his muscular frame blocked the majority of the view. Likewise, Fin and Don took up residence on either side of him, offering up additional barriers of protection and security.

"I know you planned to leave the hospital, Liv. I'm not angry with you. Can you tell me why, though? Did something happen?"

Olivia remained silent for several seconds as she pondered the query. _Had_ something happened? Technically, no. She hadn't been mistreated or assaulted. However, there had been times when people had spoken to her in a condescending manner, or tried to convince her to take tranquilizers despite her insistence that she didn't want them - as though popping a sedative would be the answer to all her problems. Then of course, there had been the ongoing battle in regard to food. On top of all that was the near constant feeling of claustrophobia. She supposed, if she _had_ to stay, that being given permission to pace the halls might go a long way to lessen the feeling of being trapped. But how could she ask for such a concession after what she'd done? There was no way anyone would trust her now.

"Liv?"

Once again, Elliot was gently prompting her. Despite the fact that he was anxious to hear her answers, his voice remained calm and steady. The other thing that provided reassurance was instead of touching her, he opted to keep his hand extended in her direction with his palm facing up. This put the choice to make contact entirely in her court, and after a time, Olivia found herself wrapping her fingers around his. As she did so, she explained what had happened at the hospital, not leaving out a single detail.

As he listened, Elliot lightly grasped Olivia's fingers in his own. He made sure she always had the freedom to pull away should she choose to do so. It hurt him deeply to hear what she had endured since he had left her alone here, but he knew the treatment hadn't been purposely malicious. It was just obvious that the majority of the staff on this unit were unfamiliar in dealing with survivors of trauma. No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't just play the white knight and sweep Olivia up in his arms and carry her away from here. She needed more extensive care – for the physical component just as much as the mental. He would, however, try to ease her anxieties in any way that he could.

"What can I do to help you, Liv? What can I give you in this moment that will offer you some comfort?"

"I want a shower. I get why I wasn't able to take one when the IV was in, but can I please take one before they put it back?"

Olivia didn't have to explain her reasons. All three of the men understood her motives, and were compassionate toward her desire to shower. After conferring and making sure she felt comfortable with someone else coming into the room, Don left to go and inquire with the nurse to see if her request would be possible. What he _didn't_ say was he was about to make every effort to ensure that it happened.

"Okay, while Don is seeing about your shower, why don't you tell me what else I can do for you?"

"Don't let them give me any tranquilizers. I don't like the way they make me feel."

Olivia's voice had cracked slightly as she made her last request, the only indication that her resolve was still not as strong as the facade she was managing to muster. For all intents and purposes, she looked strong and steady as ever – except to those who knew her well. To her friends, her fragility was eclipsed and visible, her sanity hanging on by the most minimal of threads. This was more than just a simple plea – for all the desperation couched in those two phrases, the visibly shaken woman may as well have been begging on her knees to not be medicated against her will.

Careful not to make any sudden movements, out of fear he would startle her, Elliot shifted his palm. He released Olivia's fingers and brought his hand up to gently cup the side of her face. Studying her face intently, his deep blue eyes connected with her brown ones, conveying so much more than he dared to speak out loud. Even so, he still voiced the words into the air itself, hoping that by hearing them as well as feeling them, Olivia would feel reassured of his affirmations.

"Olivia, I swear to you on my life, I will do whatever I can to prevent that from happening."

No sooner had the sentiment reached her ears, and Olivia closed her eyes. She turned her head to the side, nuzzling her cheek further into the warmth of Elliot's palm. For once, she wasn't attempting to shut him out, merely trying to conceal the tears that threatened to spill over her lower lashes and make their way down her cheeks once more. The only difference was, now instead of weeping out of guilt and shame, she was crying because of the feelings of gratitude and relief.

* * *

By the time Olivia had regained some semblance of composure, Don had returned to the room, with a nurse in tow. Elliot was relieved that only one staff member had come to check on Olivia, because had there been any more than that, she likely would have become overwhelmed all over again. Squeezing her fingers one more time, he released Olivia's hand, and moved out of the way, giving the nurse access to her patient.

"Your friend told me about your request, Ms. Benson – excuse me, Sergeant. If you'll just allow me to take your vitals first, then we can see about getting you in the shower. I want to check your blood pressure."

Although she was frustrated about the potential delay, Olivia cooperated. However annoying, it wasn't an invasive intrusion to her privacy, and she already knew her blood pressure issues were a prior concern even before her admission. If complying meant that she got to stand under the cleansing spray of hot water and wash herself clean before yet another IV was inserted into her veins for the remainder of her stay, then keeping silent was worth it.

The process only took a few minutes, and then the nurse was retreating from her personal space. Olivia tried to keep her sigh of relief from being too audible. She waited anxiously for an answer, her skin practically crawling in anticipation of the shower she craved so much.

"Your blood pressure is still on the low side, so I am going to insist on putting a bench in the stall with you. As long as you promise me that you will sit down if you feel even the slightest bit dizzy, and pull the cord to ask for help if you need it, I have no problem with you taking a shower."

With an emphatic nod, Olivia agreed to the terms. Elliot was quick to back her up, insisting that he would be in the room the entire time if she should call out. Don and Fin also confirmed that they would be nearby, giving Olivia a veritable village of supporters at her side. The nurse left the room momentarily, only to return a few minutes later with several towels, some washcloths, and a small bench that she situated inside the shower stall itself. After making certain that Olivia didn't require any toiletries, she left the room once more.

Now that it was just the four friends and colleagues who remained, the men deferred all decision making to Olivia. To their great relief, she was actually taking her current limitations into consideration, and not insisting she could do everything on her own. When she asked for her bag, it was Fin who went to the closet by the door to retrieve it for her. After selecting something new to change into, Olivia went a step further in asking for help. She asked Elliot if he would mind putting her bottles of shampoo and body wash on the shelf in the shower, as she didn't want to try and carry everything all at once.

Less than ten minutes later, everything was situated, and Olivia was ready for her shower. She stepped into the bathroom and closed the door behind her, promising not to lock it this time. Though a part of her would miss the additional privacy a locked door would provide, she trusted these men with her life, and knew they would never intrude unless absolutely necessary.

After shedding her clothes, Olivia turned on the water and adjusted it to the perfect temperature. Carefully stepping under the flow, she put her back to the spray and tilted her head back, soaking her hair. As she ran her hands through her now sodden tresses, she blinked rapidly. She mentally berated herself for crying again, but supposed if tears had to fall, this was the place to let them.

Not allowing herself to wallow for too long in what she viewed as self pity, Olivia focused instead on building up a luxurious lather with her shampoo. She scrubbed her scalp vigorously, knowing it would be at least several days before she would get this opportunity again. When it was time to wash her body, she used considerable more care than she had in recent weeks and months – not out of concern for herself, but more out of a fear that someone else would spot her reddened skin and assume the worst. She was already under enough of a microscope as it was, she didn't need to end up locked away somewhere with an around-the-clock guard.

A slight wave of vertigo swept over her, and despite her promises that she would sit or call for help if she felt that sensation, Olivia did neither. Instead, she merely grasped the handrails on either side of the shower stall and took a series of slow, steady, breaths. Once the feeling had passed, she turned off the water and pushed aside the curtain to reach for a towel. She dried herself off the best she could, then wrapped it around her body. Using a second towel, she twisted it around her hair so that she wouldn't drip water all over the floor.

Minutes later, she was dressed once more. Although she was not ready to have the IV reinserted, she could put it off no longer. No matter how much she wanted to, she could not hide within the four walls of the bathroom indefinitely. Plus, she had made a promise. While she didn't believe she owed the staff here anything in terms of making a vow, she didn't want to break her word to Elliot. Much the same way, she knew that Don and Fin didn't deserve her deception either.

Stepping back out into the main room, Olivia saw that Elliot was waiting for her, and he had an open mesh bag in his hands. When she realized it was intended for her dirty laundry, her heart pulled. She had been treating him with such a cavalier attitude, determined to keep him at arms length, and the only thing he had done was try to take care of her. Even now, he only had her best interest at heart.

To her left, Fin stood with a smile, and held out his arm in offering. Unable to stop herself from answering his grin, Olivia looped her arm through his, and allowed him to lead her back to her bed. She noticed that in her absence, the sheets had been changed, and the pillows were all fluffed and waiting for her. On the nearby bedside table tray, her phone and tablet sat waiting, just as she'd left them.

Once he'd gotten her consent, Don left the room to inform the nurse that Olivia was out of the shower and settled back in bed. Any one of them could have just as easily pushed the call button, but after the night she'd had, Olivia was leery of buttons in general, too anxious of tripping another alarm.

"How are you feeling after your shower, Sergeant?"

The nurse's voice was kind, and genuinely curious as she breezed through the doorway, a small carrier in hand filled with various needles necessary to start an IV. Talking to Olivia the entire time, she promptly and efficiently started a new line in no time at all, without causing any discomfort. Once the saline was flowing once more into Olivia's veins, she gathered her things.

"One last thing before I leave, Sergeant. I know this may be a delicate subject, but I noticed you haven't had much in the way of food today. Can I possibly interest you in trying a smoothie for a late night snack?"

Olivia's first instinct was to say 'no'. But the question had been asked in such a non-confrontational manner, not to mention the fact that Elliot, Fin and Don were all here. While she knew they wouldn't expect anything from her directly, she didn't have it in her heart to disappoint them – not after what she'd already done.

"Okay. I don't know how much I'll be able to drink, but I'll try. Mixed berry flavor, please."

"You got it. I'll be right back."

* * *

Twenty minutes later, a smoothie was delivered to Olivia's room. Once again, she found herself overwhelmed by the sheer size of it, but a touch of Elliot's hand on her arm brought her back to the present. Now that she was settled and somewhat comfortable, Fin and Don had left not long after she had put in the order for the frozen concoction. They both had promised they would return in the morning, though. Elliot, on the other hand, had informed her he wasn't going anywhere. That was when she noticed something she had missed earlier – a bag on one of the other chairs in the room that did not belong to her. He had brought some of his own things to stay at the hospital with her and keep her company? Even when he'd believed she was angry with him? Feeling the lump in her throat well up once more, Olivia attempted to tamp it down by taking a tentative sip of her smoothie. She had to admit the flavor was pleasant enough, perhaps one of the best she'd had yet. It didn't mean she was going to suddenly start eating and drinking everything that was placed in front of her, though.

"What are you doing, Elliot?"

Olivia had noticed that her companion was busy concentrating on a piece of paper in his lap, balanced on a notebook to provide sturdiness. From time to time, he would draw a circle, but given the distance between them, she couldn't decipher what he was working on.

"Filling out your menu for tomorrow. The nurse said there is still plenty of time that your breakfast selections will be honored."

Olivia felt her jaw drop. He was filling out her menu? Had he not heard anything that she'd said lately about her difficulty with food? How could he expect her to eat anything, let alone the vast quantities that arrived on her tray with every meal? Opening her mouth to object, Elliot noticed immediately, and cut her off before she could speak.

"I know it's hard for you, Liv, and I don't expect you to eat a full meal. That's why I'm purposely choosing things that will seem a little less overwhelming. Plus, I have another idea in mind. I don't want to say what it is yet, not until I'm sure it's going to work out."

Although she was skeptical, and part of her wanted to argue, Olivia was weary from all of the events that had taken place since her collapse just the day before yesterday. She was far too exhausted – both physically and emotionally - to put up a fight. Tonight had taken a particular toll on her, and she longed for a peaceful night of sleep to help her recover. Even far away from this place, she knew that would be impossible. Resigning herself to yet another night of insomnia, too afraid that her typical nightmares would provoke unwanted attention, Olivia sighed heavily.

Elliot didn't need to ask what was wrong, he could easily intuit Olivia's unrest by the way she had dropped her head back against the pillows. It brought to mind his first night at the cottage when she'd told him not to go to her room, no matter what he might hear. He suspected that anxiety was only intensified now that she was forced to sleep in a far from private environment. He wasn't sure if his presence would help or hurt in this situation, but he hoped it would be the former. Rather than call attention to the fact that he knew what was going on, he instead offered up an anecdote based on his own personal experiences.

"I don't know if I told you this, but after Jenna, I had the worst time sleeping. The nightmares were not only terrifying, but all- encompassing. I was always too afraid of waking up not only Kathy, but one of the kids. So for awhile, I just stopped sleeping altogether."

Olivia sat in silence, listening to her former partner relate his tale. It was the first he'd truly opened up to her since the day they'd had lunch on the beach, and in a way, it was such a relief to have something to focus on other than her own pain. Even though it also hurt to know that he had felt like he couldn't turn to her then, she couldn't really fault him for it. She'd been doing the same exact thing – shutting out those who cared for her all in the name of trying to protect them.

"It wasn't the right choice Liv. Not for me, and not for you, either. We both know I ended up at the bottom of a bottle. Not that I believe that is where you are headed, but you have your own issues with control. That can still lead you down a dangerous path. You need to get a handle on it now, before it consumes you."

With that, Olivia lost the already weak grasp she had on her emotions. Her tears spilled over, her lower lip trembling. But here, in Elliot's presence, she didn't feel embarrassed. She was vulnerable, yes, but he'd seen her this way before. He would never judge her.

"What if it already has?"

"It hasn't Liv. I know this, because you're still fighting. You proved that tonight. Maybe not in the best way – but you've showed that you've still got that fire within you."

At those words, Olivia couldn't help but crack a smile. She knew Elliot wasn't poking fun at her escape attempt, merely stating facts. If anyone knew of her stubborn streak, it would be him. He'd spent the better part of thirteen years dealing with it on a daily basis, after all. The sheer amount of times they had gone toe-to-toe danced in her head as the memories flashed in her mind.

"You can let your guard down and sleep safely tonight, Liv. I'll keep watch. I promise."

Nodding, Olivia set her cup to the side. It was still half full, but she'd managed more of the smoothie than her previous two attempts. Lowering the bed to a more comfortable level, she settled against the pillows and turned on her side, trying to adjust herself without tugging too sharply on the IV. She was just starting to doze off when something came to mind. She groggily asked Elliot if he could turn on the television or put something on his tablet so she would have background noise. Without hesitation, he complied, and seconds later, the soothing sounds of Bob Ross' voice were filling the room as an episode of _The Joy of Painting_ began to play. As she listened to the sound of a paintbrush scratching against the canvas, Olivia drifted off to sleep, secure in the knowledge that Elliot was with her.

* * *

Olivia blinked awake the next morning, still not yet accustomed to waking up in the hospital. Her joints were stiff from being forced to sleep in a smaller bed than she was used to, and she had a mild headache – but that wasn't uncommon. The important thing was, she had actually slept. Granted, the hours hadn't passed without the usual night terrors that had become routine for her, but Elliot had held true to his word and pulled her from the clutches of each and every one as soon as possible. With a perfect balance of distance and comfort, he'd offered her cool cloths to soothe her face, sips of water, and a reassuring hug whenever she was ready.

In search of the man who had kept a constant vigil by her side ever since he had arrived to coax her out of the bathroom the night before, Olivia finally found him. It seemed he had finally succumbed to his own fatigue, contorted to fit on the love seat in front of the windows. At some point, one of the nurses must have offered him supplies, for his head was resting on a pillow, and there was a thin blanket covering his muscular form.

Curious as to the time, Olivia glanced at the clock on the wall opposite her bed. She was surprised to see that it was just after seven, meaning that she hadn't slept as late as she originally thought. In fact, it was just about time for another shift change. Not to mention, the dreaded breakfast trays would likely be brought in soon. While she wasn't exactly looking forward to the idea of facing a meal, she was curious to see what Elliot had chosen for her.

Speaking of Elliot, the last thing Olivia wanted to do was disturb him, especially when he had given up so much of his own valuable sleep time to watch over her. However, the pressure on her bladder was bordering on unbearable, and she knew she'd need to call in the nurse or aide sooner as opposed to later for assistance in getting to the bathroom. Reluctantly pressing the call button, Olivia sat back and waited, hoping that whenever someone did come in, they would be quiet in deference to the still relatively early morning hour.

Luck was on her side. Within minutes, it was April who appeared in her room. Olivia remembered the young woman from her first day in the hospital, and was relieved that she was once again in her care. Not only was her kindness still apparent, but she had immediately observed the sleeping visitor in the room, and spoke softly in order to ascertain Olivia's request.

"How can I help you, Sergeant?"

"If you don't mind, I need to use the bathroom."

April gave her patient a warm smile.

"Of course I don't mind, it's what I'm here for. Bryan mentioned the other day you did better with him disconnecting the IV rather than trying to manage the entire pump, so why don't we try that?"

The mention of the familiar name didn't even register. Olivia hadn't even been paying attention when the other aide had previously introduced himself. Instead, she merely nodded her agreement, and held out her arm. Once she was on her feet and feeling steady, Olivia walked mostly on her own to the bathroom, April standing close by just in case she should falter. When she was safely inside, April informed her she would be back shortly, and if she should need anything, to pull the cord on the wall.

There was enough time before April's return that Olivia was also able to wash her face and brush her teeth, and she was feeling much more alert as she was led back to her bed. As she lay back against the pillows, April asked her if she wanted to put in an order for a smoothie to accompany her breakfast, and for the first time, Olivia agreed without hesitation. The only thing she doubted herself on was in choosing a flavor. Ultimately, though, she selected the same pineapple and mango one she'd had the day prior.

"I'll be in shortly to take your vitals, Sergeant. Breakfast trays should be here soon."

No sooner had she spoken, then an orderly appeared at the door, tray in hand. He stepped into the room, and was immediately intercepted by Elliot. Olivia watched in surprise, completely unaware that he'd even woken up.

"If you don't mind, I'll take that. Sergeant Benson isn't quite ready to eat just yet this morning."

Elliot turned to April, asking a second question.

"Is it all right if I set the tray over on the windowsill for now? It's not a hot breakfast, so there isn't anything that you have to worry about reheating. Our friends are bringing in something when they come in around eight thirty, and I thought Olivia and I could have breakfast together."

April gave a knowing smile, along with a nod. Olivia on the other hand, just sat on the bed in shock, trying to understand what had just happened.

"That would be fine. The cart stays outside in the hall for some time after meals. You can just return the tray whenever she is finished."

* * *

True to what Elliot had promised, Don and Fin arrived at eight-thirty on the dot, and it appeared they were bearing gifts. At the very least, they had brought a few bags with them, and Olivia was beyond curious as to their contents. She didn't have to wait for long, though, as Elliot showed her immediately.

"Paper plates, bowls, and cups? Why would I need those here?"

Now Olivia was even more puzzled, and she was certain her face showed it. For his part, Elliot did not explain, as he was more intent on demonstrating. Opening the package of paper plates, he removed one then went over to tray that still remained on the windowsill, something Olivia had almost forgotten about. There, he portioned out some of the breakfast he had ordered for her – half of a blueberry muffin, and a couple scoops of a generous fruit cup. Leaving the rest on the tray, he covered it up again and brought the small meal over and set it on Olivia's tray table, moving it in front of her so she'd have access to eat it. When she realized what he'd done, tears of gratitude welled up in her eyes. For the first time in as long as she could remember, she was not overwhelmed by the prospect of a meal. The plate he had chosen – well, technically that Don had chosen – was only six inches in diameter, making it the size of an average bread and butter or salad plate.

Much in the same way, when her smoothie was delivered moments later, Elliot took that as well and transferred it to one of the smaller eight ounce cups. The option was still there to eat or drink more should she choose, but gone was all the pressure and expectation to consume everything all at once. With the pressure gone, so was the guilt that accompanied it.

By the time she'd finished, Olivia ended up consuming in total one quarter of a blueberry muffin, about half a cup of cantaloupe, honeydew, and grapes, and eight ounces of her smoothie. Except for the smoothie, it amounted to half of everything that Elliot had put on her new smaller plate, and one third of the smoothie in total, but it was the most she had eaten in one sitting in ages. She was pleasantly full, without any unwelcome after effects like nausea. Though she hated to admit it, Elliot's plan had worked – for now.

Elliot had just come back from returning the tray to the cart when a doctor entered the room. As this wasn't a physician Olivia recognized, she was immediately on alert. Her friends were aware of the tension in her body language, and made it apparent that they were not going to leave unless she asked them to – something Olivia had no intention of doing.

The dark skinned man had already studied his patient's chart, and was aware of her recent history. He took no offense of her apparent anxiety, nor was he insulted when she shrank back from the hand he extended in introduction. He merely continued on with explaining who he was and why he was there.

"Good morning, Sergeant Benson. My name is Malcolm David, and I am a hematologist here at the hospital. I was contacted in regard to your treatment because of your blood test results the other day in the emergency room."

Olivia's memories of her time in the emergency department were shaky at best. Most of them were filled with terror, but she did vaguely recall someone trying to talk to her about blood work, and the resulting panic attack that had followed. The fact that someone was in her room now pursuing that avenue further did not allay her fears. As though intuiting her unease, Dr. David began to speak.

"Forgive me if I've startled you. That was not my intention. While not life threatening, there is something that needs to be taken care of. If you'll allow me to explain?"

Somehow, Olivia found within herself the wherewithal to nod. She was grateful once again for not only Elliot's presence, but Fin and Don's as well. If she'd have had to go through this alone, she wasn't sure she'd have been able to stand it.

"Most likely as a result of your recent trauma and subsequent eating difficulties, your body is suffering from insufficient nutrition. One of the things we've noticed is a decreased level of Vitamin D. You may have been aware that we began giving you high dose supplements yesterday morning."

Again, Olivia nodded, but she still didn't understand where this was going. What was wrong with her?

"The other deficiency we noticed is that you are severely anemic. Unfortunately, it is not something we can correct with supplements alone. That is why, during your stay, we are going to be administering iron infusions via your IV line. Depending on how you respond, you may have to continue these infusions on an outpatient basis after you are discharged."

Olivia's shoulders sagged as relief coursed through her. Anemia. She could deal with that. It wasn't anything fatal, which for several moments had been her greatest fear – that she had survived unimaginable horror at the hands of William Lewis only to have her own body turn traitor on her months later. Memories of Alice Parker and Liz Mayer flashed behind her closed lids. They were followed by images of members of the Cole family, and countless others that Lewis had tortured or killed. His mark on them – and her – had been indelible but she would not let it alter her life permanently. He would not get to win.

"When will you start?"

She heard herself ask the question, but didn't exactly recognize her own voice. Nevertheless, Olivia awaited an answer with baited breath, hoping beyond hope that no matter when the treatment would happen, she'd be allowed to remain in her room. It may not be much, and for the most part she'd detested it, but it was the only part of this hospital that she recognized, and to be moved somewhere unfamiliar would only disorient her more.

"I'll write up the order, and it will likely be brought to you by this afternoon. The infusion process takes a few hours, so it might help you to have a movie or something picked out to watch to pass the time."

With that helpful bit of advice, Olivia decided that she liked this doctor, and he was more friend than foe. She nodded her agreement, and as he was leaving the room, she shook his hand in parting. The interaction had taken its toll on her though, and she leaned back against the pillows and closed her eyes, needing a brief respite from the events of the morning.

* * *

Olivia wasn't sure if it was due to her willingness to participate in her treatment, or the presence of her close friends, but for some reason, her time in the hospital today hadn't been as difficult to endure. Granted, the hours still crawled by slowly, but her situation was much more bearable. There was, however, one thing she was still dreading – food. Memories of Elliot's intervention with breakfast this morning had her viewing the prospect of lunch with less trepidation than before, but it didn't quell the anxiety entirely. On top of that, there was the iron infusion that awaited her following the afternoon meal.

Currently, Olivia had the room to herself, as the men had all stepped out momentarily. Fin had gone to pick up some lunch for them while Don was speaking to her nurse, trying to get more details about the iron infusion. Then there was Elliot, who had gone to the visitors lounge to take a phone call. He had been hesitant to leave, even for a few minutes, but she had insisted she would be fine.

Don was the first to return, and he told Olivia that they would be giving her the iron infusion after she had eaten something. Apparently, there was a slight risk of nausea from the treatment, which would be decreased if her stomach were full. Yet again, Olivia felt the unintentional pressure over eating, but knew she had to at least try. She would trust Elliot to set up a plate for her like he had at breakfast, and take things one step at a time.

As though they had planned it, Fin and Elliot got back to the room at exactly the same time. The former was carrying two bags – one containing their chosen subs, and the other filled with drinks and chips to compliment them. To further enhance the coincidence, the rumbling of a heavy cart could be heard in the hall, signaling the arrival of lunch. Olivia felt her heart rate quicken as the anxiety over facing another meal consumed her, but she tried not to let it show. Instead, she pored over the list of smoothie flavors, knowing that April would be in soon to ask what kind she wanted to accompany her nourishment.

Once again, when her food was brought into the room, Olivia watched with relief as Elliot intercepted it and carried it over to the windowsill before she could even catch a glimpse of all that was on it. Just as he had with breakfast, he worked diligently to scale down the meal into more manageable portions. As he'd gently assured her this morning, she could _always_ add more to the smaller plate, but this way, she didn't have to feel any distress over leaving a large amount behind that had gone uneaten.

From the corner of her eye, Olivia noticed that Elliot was in fact bringing over the actual tray this time – he'd just rearranged some things so that the plates and bowls Don had brought this morning were on it instead of the ones from the hospital kitchen. Those were still hidden from her view.

When her lunch was placed before her, Olivia understood the need for the tray. In addition to the plate - which contained one quarter of a turkey sandwich on whole wheat bread, there was also a small, steaming bowl of chicken noodle soup. In the upper corner rested what must have been Elliot's version of dessert – a clear miniature container holding roughly five grapes and a single vanilla wafer. As soon as she spied the sweets, Olivia's eyes flew to his, and though he didn't say a word, Elliot did give a silent reply of a wink and a knowing grin.

Without leaving Olivia completely alone, the men in the room once again wisely chose to ignore the elephant in the room and all diverted their attentions to their own lunches. The four ate in mostly companionable silence, with only the briefest conversations breaking up the quiet here and there.

By the time she'd eaten everything that was in front of her, Olivia's minimal appetite had been appeased, and she declined the offer of trying to consume anything else. She knew, however, that there would still be the smoothie to contend with. Unlike previous times, it had not been delivered at the same time as the normal meal, instead delayed so she could sip on it during the administration of her iron infusion.

Not long after finishing his sub, Fin reluctantly announced it was time for him to head back to the city. He was about to launch into a more detailed explanation and make his apologies when Olivia silenced him with a look and told him that she understood. Now that the tray table had been moved, Fin stepped close to the bed to hug the woman who had been a close friend for some time. Wrapping his arms around her in a gentle embrace, he whispered something only she could hear.

"You take care of yourself, Liv. Remember that you can still call me at any time, and I'll be there for you. Also, don't forget that my that my promise to kick Stabler's ass still stands."

The last sentence had been spoken at a higher decibel than the others, making it audible to everyone in the room. Though his tone indicated otherwise, Elliot wasn't angry. The smile on his face proved it.

"I heard that."

In spite of it all, Olivia breathed a laugh as she shook her head. Even now, Fin and Elliot were still going at it. They weren't actually arguing, but they weren't particularly getting along, either. She knew they would never be the best of friends, but they did have one thing to unite them – her. She was the common thread that would always link them together. At a time when everything else felt like it was falling apart, it gave her a renewed strength in knowing she could still hold something together.

* * *

Not long after Fin had left, the nurse came into the room. Olivia tried her best to hide her unease as she saw the size of the IV bag that was to be infused into her veins. Desperate for any tactic that would stall the treatment further, she asked to use the bathroom first, knowing that once the process had begun, dragging the cumbersome IV pump with her would be an annoying chore.

It wasn't long before she had run out of excuses. Even the additional delay of Don's departure for the day hadn't been enough of a reprieve to allay Olivia's anxiety. She tried to remind herself of what Dr. David had told her – that the procedure was a painless one, and would use her existing IV line, preventing her from being prodded yet again by another needle. Despite that knowledge, Olivia didn't visibly calm until she felt the warmth of Elliot's palm cover her own, and his fingers interlock with hers. He squeezed once, gently, prompting her to look in his direction.

"Eyes on me, Liv. Don't focus on what she is doing. As soon as it's just us again, we can start a movie or something to keep you distracted."

True to his word, once they were alone, Elliot released her hand – only so he could grab his laptop. Placing it on the tray table, he pulled up a movie and pressed 'play'. Then, he moved his chair closer to the bed, so they could watch together. When Olivia dozed off halfway through, he took the empty cup from her hand and put it with the rest of the smoothie she'd been unable to finish. After making sure she was warm enough, he sat back down in the spot he'd had before, fulfilling his promise to never leave her side.

Just as Dr. David had warned, there had been some mild side effects as a result of the iron infusion. In addition to some increased fatigue, Olivia had also experienced some mild nausea. While she didn't believe she was going to throw up, the sensation was uncomfortable enough that she consented to being given medication to combat the symptoms. Fortunately, relief was almost immediate, and the queasiness abated soon after. By the time the dinner trays were due to arrive, all that remained was her usual struggle over having to eat.

While she wouldn't say that what she was feeling was hunger, Olivia did have to admit that she was definitely curious. Just what had Elliot chosen for her for the evening meal? He'd certainly done right by her so far today, his selections right on the mark. Though the idea of looking ahead to the future to any degree was cause for apprehension, she couldn't help but wonder what he had picked for her for the following day. As much as she hated admitting it – even just to herself – she needed him right now. Even the simplest gesture of him doling out her meals had made life here in the hospital much more bearable. But could she really be so selfish as to ask him to continue to stay?

Olivia was pulled from the thoughts that consumed her by the sound of a tray being placed in front of her. Almost instantly, her mind went into overdrive, and her breathing began to quicken. Where was Elliot?

She was too afraid to open her eyes, because she didn't want to see the vast quantity of food before her.

"Liv, Liv, it's me. I'm sorry I startled you, I thought you heard me talking. I already scaled down your dinner, it's just kind of like lunch was, that's why I used the tray. You can open your eyes."

Focusing on the sound of Elliot's voice, Olivia tentatively opened her eyes. He was right, after all, just like she knew he would be. Placed before her was one of the paper plates she was already growing accustomed to. It was bearing some cut up baked chicken, a couple spoonfuls of rice, and a small amount of green beans. To accompany the meal, there was a cup of hot water and a teabag that Olivia recognized as being one of her own. Her eyes filled with wonder, and she looked at Elliot with an expression that conveyed her gratitude. Though she hadn't explicitly asked for one, he gave her an explanation anyway.

"I've been waiting all day to give you that, Liv. Because the item came from outside the hospital, we had to wait on approval from your doctors. I've never seen so much fuss over a few simple teabags."

Olivia grinned, then immediately zeroed in on the tea. It wasn't that she was purposely ignoring her dinner this time, she just hadn't had any in a few days, and she'd missed the soothing beverage immensely. Once she'd had a few sips, she picked up her fork and began to slowly eat the chicken. For hospital food, the preparation of the poultry was quite pleasant. It wasn't dry at all, and she made the comment to Elliot that if it should turn up on the menu again during her stay, it would be an acceptable choice.

By the time she'd finished her miniature meal, it dawned on Olivia that something else was missing. No one had come in to ask her about her supplemental smoothie. It wasn't that she was disappointed- because she certainly wasn't – but it did strike her as odd. When she remarked about it to Elliot, he gave her a grin.

"That's on me, Liv. I hope you won't be mad at me for it. I told your aide while you were in the bathroom earlier that it might be easier for you to wait and have your dinner smoothie as a bedtime snack instead of everything all at once."

At first, anger – or at least something close to it – was the emotion that was closest to the surface. Yet again, people were making decisions on her behalf, and it was frustrating as hell. But at the same time, it was also a relief to not be responsible, and to let someone else carry the load for awhile. Olivia was so incredibly conflicted in that moment, and it had nothing to do with a smoothie. Reality came crashing back in – the knowledge that she was here in the hospital against her will because she had become too far gone to care for herself. How had things gotten to this point?

Elliot watched, concerned as the woman in the hospital bed unraveled right before his eyes. Guilt surged within him as he tried to determine if he had inadvertently said or done something to trigger her. All he could remember was mentioning about the smoothie having not been delivered with dinner, and being a potential bedtime snack instead. He knew she didn't care for them, but thought she had become resigned enough to accept their existence in her current diet. Shaking his head, Elliot determined that was not the cause. He'd have to find out what was, though. As Olivia's breathing grew more choppy he remembered something else – a promise made in the early morning hours, and one he vowed he would keep at all costs. No matter what, he would not allow them to sedate her.

* * *

In her present state, Elliot knew it would not be wise to touch Olivia, lest he increase her panic and trigger her further. Instead, he focused on reaching her by voice alone – trying to break through whatever terror currently held her in its clutches and bring her back to the present.

"Olivia? Can you hear me? It's Elliot."

The woman in the bed did not respond verbally, but the she turned her head in his direction. He could tell though, that she wasn't really seeing him, at least not yet. Confident that she at least seemed to be hearing him, he continued.

"You're safe, Liv. I'm here with you, and you're safe. All you need to do is focus on your breathing. Nice and even."

Olivia was still hyperventilating to a degree, but her breaths were markedly slower. Whether she was slowing down because of fatigue, or from listening to his instructions, it didn't really matter.

"Can you feel the bed under you, supporting you? How about the blanket? It's something tangible, something you can touch. Run your fingers over it, count each and every stitch."

Blinking a few times, Olivia gradually became aware of her surroundings. Despite all her attempts to avoid it, her cheeks flushed with shame as she realized what had happened. Panic attacks were inevitable, especially at this early stage of her recovery, but that didn't make her detest them any less. The fact that Elliot had borne witness to more than his fair share of them by this point didn't make things any easier.

Pretending as though nothing out of the ordinary had occurred, Elliot poured some fresh water into a cup and held it out to Olivia, an unspoken peace offering. She accepted, although it wounded him deeply when he noticed she made every effort to avoid touching him – even accidentally. He knew it wasn't intentional on her part, that she was just retreating into herself as a form of self preservation, but it still hurt.

"I'm sorry."

The words that slipped from Olivia's lips were barely a whisper, and she couldn't even bring herself to make eye contact, her humiliation was that great. This was just as bad – if not worse – than her failed escape attempt then night before when Elliot had had to come and rescue her sorry self from weeping on the bathroom floor. Really, how pathetic could she possibly get? She was a grown woman for heaven's sake, acting like a helpless, needy, child!

"Liv."

The tone of Elliot's voice was so unbearably gentle. There was no admonishment whatsoever, even though Olivia thought herself deserving of some sort of recrimination. She'd been so irrational, she didn't deserve his compassion right now.

"May I hug you, Olivia?"

She knew what he was doing. He was asking for consent, so he wouldn't frighten her further. He wanted to know that she was comfortable with his touch in that moment, and that meant the world to her. Unfortunately, Olivia felt undeserving of the comfort Elliot wanted to offer, and was within seconds of denying him his request. However, the base need of human contact won out over her own self hatred in that moment, and she heard herself agreeing to what he had asked. The next thing she knew, she was enveloped in Elliot's strong arms, and the combined scents of his cologne and aftershave were all around her. Grounded by the familiarity of it all, Olivia gave in to the embrace, and wrapped her arms around him in return. A few residual sniffles escaped, but she resisted the urge to let more tears fall. Now was not the time to fall apart again.

As they were disentangling their upper limbs and separating from the hug, Olivia's aide came into the room. Apparently, it was time to take vitals, and both Elliot and Olivia groaned internally. This was not going to go well. Certainly this person would notice Olivia's disheveled appearance and intuit that she was recently upset. It was inevitable that the dreaded question about a sedative would be asked. Elliot was prepared to stand up on Olivia's behalf, and braced himself for the fallout.

By some small miracle, the event lapsed without any conflict. The aide taking Olivia's vital signs appeared to be on some sort of auto-pilot, mechanically going about his duties. Once he'd left, and the two former partners were left alone yet again, silence reigned. Ultimately, it was Elliot who broke the quiet calm.

"So, Liv, how did you want to spend the evening? We can always try and watch something else, but if you're not up for that, I'm fine with just sitting quietly, too."

Olivia was a bit surprised that Elliot wasn't inquiring over what had upset her, but she was also relieved that he hadn't. She did plan to share her reasons eventually, she just needed more time with her own thoughts first. The options he had offered sounded nice, but she wasn't sure she could trust her concentration level at this point. At the same time, having nothing but quiet would be incredibly unnerving.

"Maybe if we could just find something to have on as background noise? I don't think I'm in the mood to watch anything right now."

"You got it."

Elliot flipped through a few choices before making a suggestion, which Olivia easily agreed to. It was an older sitcom that they were both familiar with, and would provide a perfect distraction. Sensing Olivia needed a bit of breathing room, Elliot retreated to the love seat, stating that he wanted to stretch out a little bit. The laptop was angled enough that he could still see the screen. Grateful for the additional space, Olivia leaned back against the pillows and closed her eyes. She was tired – not enough to sleep, but in the sense that she was emotionally drained. She needed time to not only decompress, but process what had gone through her mind earlier.

* * *

Three episodes later, Olivia was feeling much calmer now than she had previously. Granted, she was still embarrassed from having experienced a panic attack in Elliot's presence, but at least she no longer felt like everything was closing in on her from all sides. It didn't mean she was ready to talk about what had upset her, however, she knew by now that Elliot wasn't going to push. The same could not be said for Dr. Barnes, who would be coming by the following morning. She also had a feeling they would even expect her to touch base with Dr. Lindstrom at some point, so she'd have to deal with double the psychotherapy when even a single appointment was the last thing she wanted right now.

If she had to describe her emotions in one word at their current level, Olivia supposed she would choose 'conflicted'. Elliot's intervention the night before had helped her understand reason as to why she should stop resisting medical treatment, but she was still feeling so very torn. It didn't help matters any knowing that the staff here considered her incapable of making decisions on her own, and up until recently, she hadn't done herself any favors. Truth be told, she wasn't entirely sure _why_ she was being so cooperative right now. Given the chance, Olivia knew she would absolutely sign herself out of this place against medical advice, and hide herself away from the world once more. Visions of running away from it all still ruled her thoughts – something else she was keeping secret.

Glancing to her right, Olivia observed that Elliot had dozed off at some point during the last ninety minutes. She wasn't offended in the least by the fact that he was sleeping, if anything his current state of slumber touched her heart. She knew that it meant he was resting up now because he intended to spend another night by her side keeping vigil. In fact, ever since his reappearance into her life, he was probably getting less sleep than she had been, but he hadn't complained – not even once. It reminded her of her earlier affirmation to herself that she would try and let him in more, but that wasn't something she could do in this moment. Not just because of the excuse that he wasn't awake, but because she didn't possess the emotional strength for that kind of conversation. Olivia realized that something of that depth may even have to wait until her release from the hospital. Briefly, she envisioned going back to the beach with Elliot and sharing a blanket along the shore as they had done the day he told her where he had been during the three years he had been absent from her life. That was one of only a handful of occasions that she can clearly recall a true feeling of safety and security.

The more she thought about it, Olivia realized that all the other incidents in which she had been completely at ease had all involved Elliot's presence – even if it had incensed her at the time and seemed like an invasion of privacy. For thirteen years he had been her rock. She finally had that stability back, why did she keep denying herself the comfort he could offer? Elliot had made it perfectly clear that he wasn't going anywhere – not unless she told him to leave. Even when she had ordered him to go, he still had stayed, determined to be whatever she needed.

"Penny for your thoughts."

Startled, Olivia turned toward the source of the voice that had just spoken to her, only to find that Elliot was awake and studying her intently. For the first time in ages, she didn't hide behind a mask or alter her expression under his scrutiny. Instead, she allowed everything to be visible. She wasn't quite ready to openly volunteer any information, but if he chose to call her out on it, so be it. How quickly she forgot that Elliot knew her entirely too well. Even this alternate tactic of evasion wasn't enough to slip past his skills of perception. Olivia watched as the man on the other side of the room stood, his bones popping and creaking as he took a moment to stretch languidly, then crossed the few steps to stand beside her bed.

"Liv, you have to know I don't expect you to talk to me, but if I could say something here – I think it's killing you to keep it all inside. Just so you know, I'm always here whenever you want to vent, and I'm never going to judge. You want to scream at the top of your lungs? Go right ahead, have at it. You are entitled to feel whatever you are feeling, and no one can tell you otherwise."

Despite the seriousness of the offer, Olivia couldn't hold back the smile that played at the corners of her mouth. She'd just gotten the most ridiculous mental image of her doing exactly what Elliot had suggested, and gathering the attention of every employee in this entire hospital as a result. No, if she truly were to 'let it all out', it couldn't be here. Still, his offer was a tempting one, and she shelved it away in a far corner of her mind to save for another day.

"I appreciate the offer Elliot, but if you'll remember, my goal here is to _not_ be sedated. If I start screaming at the top of my lungs, they'll not only kick you out of here, but I'll likely wind up in a padded room."

It was the first real reference Olivia had made to her current mental status, and the fact that she was actually joking about it – albeit in a self recriminating fashion – gave Elliot hope that maybe the tide was starting to turn. He knew these changes wouldn't be immediate, and there would be definite backpedaling along the way, but this healing journey Olivia was partaking in wasn't a sprint, but instead a marathon. Every step forward was a small victory in and of itself, and even if she were to falter, he'd help her pick herself back up again and continue on her way.

Elliot was about to say something else, but the appearance of a nurse prevented him from doing so, at least temporarily. The woman was here to distribute Olivia's nighttime medication, and also to inquire what she would like for a late evening snack. In addition to a smoothie, apparently there were other options available, but before any could be mentioned, Elliot intervened.

"If there is a printed menu available of the food options Sergeant Benson has to choose from during the hours outside of meal times, can you please bring it to the room? That way, if she's ever interested, it's easily at her disposal."

Olivia's sigh of relief was audible only to Elliot. She did, however, manage to agree to a smoothie. The thought of anything else, especially after a day where she had faced three meals – no matter how tiny – was too much to even consider.

Twenty minutes later, she was sipping from a small cup containing part of her mixed berry smoothie. Elliot, who had stepped out to raid one of the vending machines on the floor also had a snack of his own. They were currently facing off across her tray table, a deck of cards between them. Olivia, unable to fully concentrate on any sort of game that would require a great deal of thought, had suggested they play the children's classic 'war'. That suggestion had prompted laughter from Elliot, who remembered the many fights that had resulted because of the game when his children had played it when they were young. Still, if it would make Olivia happy, he would do anything she asked.

The game took them nearly two hours to complete, and resulted in several heated battles. In the end, it was Olivia who was declared the winner. Elliot conceded defeat graciously, though he did request a rematch. While she was trying to pretend she wasn't interested in granting one, a yawn escaped that Olivia was unable to hide. Her fatigue was getting the better of her, and it was apparent that she needed to try and sleep.

After a final appearance from an aide for the night, Olivia was settled in bed once more. Elliot was still by her side, sensing her growing anxiety.

"Close your eyes, Liv. I'm not going anywhere."

Despite her exhaustion, Olivia still tried to protest.

"But you need to rest, too. You can't keep staying awake watching me sleep."

"Don't worry about me. I'm fine."

As she nodded off, Olivia mumbled one final rejoinder, intent on having the last word.

"That's my line."

Elliot smiled as he adjusted the covers, ensuring that Olivia would be warm enough. Then he returned to his position in the chair beside her bed. He would keep watch for a few hours, then retreat to the love seat by the windows to rest his own mind and body. What mattered was that he was here if she should need him. She had crossed amazing hurdles today, but come tomorrow, she'd need to do it all over again. He wasn't going to let her do one bit of it alone.


End file.
